Nextgendarkfest fic #2

[nicevenn]

Name/LJ: drippingcherry
Title: How It Pays Off
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~3,400
Pairing(s): Albus Severus/James Sirius, past Albus/Scorpius
Warnings: Angst, blackmail, bondage, dub-con, non-con, illegal potion use, incest, rough/choking oral, violence (all in under 3.5k words... I think I might have broken a record with this!!)
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Albus wished that James would stop avoiding him when he was angry at their dad. Wish granted.
Author/Artist's Notes: Written for nextgendarkfest




"Leave him alone, Dad. He just got back."

Everyone at the table turned their eyes on Albus. His dad locked him with a hard gaze, and Albus felt awkward. He didn't usually speak to his parents that way, apart from joking around, but he was too frustrated stop himself.

He'd been looking forward to his brother's return from Romania. James had been away studying and learning to tame dragons with Uncle Charlie all summer, and before that, Albus had been finishing his last year at Hogwarts, so they hadn't seen each other since Christmas. Even then, Albus had barely seen James – he'd spent most of the time locked up in his room, sulking after fights with their dad.

Albus had hoped the tensions would ease now that James had embarked on a respectable career path. Apparently he'd been wrong. Uncle Charlie had reported that James had spent more time partying than studying, and would be dropped from the programme if he didn't start showing more dedication to his chosen line of work. Their dad hadn't taken the news well, and now the nightmare was starting all over again.

Dad dropped his gaze and resumed eating, but the damage had been done. James had a furious look on his face as he pushed his chair back and left the table.

After dinner, Albus went up to his brother's room. He thought maybe they could go out for a drink and hear about James' adventures in Egypt, or even stay home and catch up over a cup of hot chocolate, but James was already on his way out. He pushed impatiently passed Albus, muttering something that sounded like I'll see you tomorrow when asked where he was off to.

Albus gave a sigh and lay down on James' bed. He'd wanted to spend some time with his brother, to mend the rift between them before James returned to Romania and Albus began Auror training. Right now, the prospects of that happening didn't look good.

James always avoided Albus when he and Dad weren't getting along – which was most of the time these last few years. Albus assumed it was because his brother couldn't stand the sight of him: he looked just like their dad. Everyone said so. Albus had the same raven-coloured hair, the same emerald eyes, the same slender physique. He even had a pouty lower lip, which he hadn't realised was the same as their dad's until he overheard two Ravenclaw girls talking about it back at Hogwarts. Now that Dad had got rid of the glasses, age was the only difference between them.

Albus' friends said he should be grateful for the resemblance; it got him laid a lot. Albus had been, too – until one of his ex-girlfriends had called him Harry in bed. No one saw Albus as an individual, or loved or hated him for who he was. Not even James, it seemed.

That hurt the most. Albus had always wished he and his brother were closer, like Lorcan and Lysander. Those two were inseparable. But the distance between himself and James had grown each year since Albus' first year at Hogwarts, because while James continued to fall short of their parents' expectations, Albus excelled in all areas of academic life. He'd received Os and Es in all his classes, whereas James received a good deal of As. When Albus joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team, they'd won the Cup for the first time in years.

"You're so fucking perfect," James had said bitterly after the celebrations that night. "Just like Dad."

He'd never congratulated Albus on making Quidditch Captain in his sixth year.

Albus sighed and buried his face in the pillows. It was probably too late to try and fix things now.


*******

Albus woke to the feeling of rough cloth being shoved into his mouth. His immediate reaction was to scream, but he must have already been Silencio'd, because no sound came out. The gag was just an extra precaution in case the spell failed.

He tried to push his attacker's hands away, but found that his arms were bound above his head. It was dark, but when he looked up, he saw James' face in the moonlight shining in through the windows.

"You shouldn't have come in here, Al," James said. His breath reeked of alcohol, though he didn't sound drunk. He never did, no matter how much he drank. "There's a reason I stay away from you when he pisses me off."

Before Albus knew what to think, James' fist collided with his cheekbone. Pain exploded in his face as his head flew to the side. What the fuck? he wanted to ask, but was prevented from doing so by the gag in his mouth and an infuriating lack of voice.

"Looking like daddy really pays off, doesn't it?"

James looked intently at Albus as he rubbed the bruised cheekbone with his thumb. Then, unexpectedly, he leaned in and kissed the sore spot. His lips were hot and moist and kept contact way too long. When they finally lifted, Albus expected James to pull away, but he didn't. Instead he shifted his weight onto Albus and moved his mouth down to the younger boy's jawbone to kiss that, too. His breathing turned heavy as he continued the path, taking Albus' earlobe between his teeth. Cold dread, accompanied by an unwelcome heat, rushed through Albus' veins. He struggled to free himself, but James pinned him more firmly to the mattress. To Albus' horror, James was completely aroused.

"This would shut him up, don't you think?" James asked, grinding his erection into Albus' hip.

Albus tugged furiously at his bonds, but they wouldn't give.

"I can't show you the best way tonight," James went on, "not with that gag in your mouth, but there's always tomorrow or the next day. For now, this'll do."

When James sat back on his heels and reached for Albus' belt, Albus renewed his struggles. He kicked hard, even got his brother in the face once, but inevitably his trousers and pants ended up on the floor. It came as a complete shock, considering that his wrists were tied securely to the bed, when James flipped him over onto his stomach. The magical ropes had somehow readjusted themselves to allow it. It must have been a trick James had picked up while learning to tame dragons.

He was able to block out his thoughts, but not the rest: not the blinding pain as James pushed into him without preparation and only a coating of saliva to ease the way; not the stench of alcohol; not the rough sounds James made against his ear; and definitely not the heat and twisting in his belly that intensified with every brutal thrust.

He didn't realise he'd been crying until he felt the cold trails of tears on his cheeks when James finally got off him. The bonds vanished, and Albus pulled the gag from his mouth. His hands shook as he put his trousers back on. When he looked up from buttoning them, James was standing by his desk, holding out a flat, square case.

Albus took it and stared at the unlabeled surface of the disk inside.

"That's just a copy," James told him. His voice was softer now, but flat and devoid of emotion. "You might want to take a look at it before you decide to tell anyone about what happened here, or try to refuse me next time you're around at the wrong moment. Magical Law Enforcement would love to see it. I bet it'd really jump start your career as an Auror. Dad would be so proud."

And he walked over to the bed and slipped beneath the covers, turning his back on Albus.

Albus could think of only one thing that might be on the MBD. His blood ran cold.


*****

In the sanctuary of his own room, Albus turned his laptop and put the MBD in the drive. There was only one file on it, so he opened it.

The clip began to play, and Albus' heart faltered under an onslaught of emotions past and present at the sight of the pale, slender body sprawled out on his bed: excitement, lust, affection, pain, guilt, dread. He himself wasn't visible on the video yet. Although the details of that night were scanty in his memory, he knew he'd probably been stumbling in through the front door at that very moment, drunk as a house-elf.

Mum and dad were away on holiday. James was to have met him at Platform 9-3/4 but he hadn't been there, so Albus had gone home with the Scamanders just to show that he didn't care. Their parents had gone out to a ball for the evening, so the three of them invited some friends over and played a Muggle game called Never Have I Ever. There weren’t many things Albus hadn’t done before.

When he got home he found James and several of his friends lounging in the living room. They were obviously taking full advantage of Mum and Dad's absence.

"Don't be such a whiny git," James said from his comfortable seat on the sofa between two friends, a bottle of beer in his hand. "So what if I wasn't on the platform to meet you?" He grinned. "We brought you a present. It's in your room."

Albus started up the stairs. He didn't give a damn about the present or what it was until, behind him, James yelled, "Don't worry – he won't remember a thing!"

That had piqued his interest.

Now, on the video, Albus saw the door to his bedroom open and watched himself walk in, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of Scorpius Malfoy naked and knocked out on his bed. Albus didn't remember that part, but he could imagine the thoughts that had gone through his head: shock at what James and his friends had done, who they had brought him; horror that he wanted to take advantage of the situation; excitement at the prospect of finally taking what his ex-boyfriend had denied him while they were a couple the previous year.

Albus couldn't believe that his brother had hidden a camera in his room that night. The only possible explanation was that James had hoped to capture some incriminating material that he could one day use as blackmail. Like now. Albus would never have expected James to do such a thing, but then again, considering what had just happened, he was beginning to think he didn't know his brother at all.

He really didn't need to keep watching the video--he knew what happened next--but his eyes remained glued to the computer screen, watching himself sitting down next to Scorpius on the bed and reaching out a hand to caress his bare thigh.

Scorpius stirred. "Al?"

"Yeah, it's me." Albus unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down his fly. He was only semi-erect.

He lay down on the bed nestled in between Scorpius' thighs and laid a gentle string of kisses along his jaw line, licking the side of his neck.

"I love you...so hot...always wanted this..."

When Albus got hard – which didn't take very long – he sat back and lifted Scorpius a little by the hips, enough to place a pillow beneath his arse, then positioned himself between the pale thighs.

"No," Scorpius said drowsily, as if talking in his sleep.

Albus grabbed him by the wrists and pinned them above his head. "Yes," he said, panting. "Oh gods, yes."

Scorpius' entire body rocked with the force of his thrusts as he started to move.

"So tight... love you so much," Albus chanted between animalistic grunts.

Albus grabbed the wastebasket just in time as he began to retch. He was no better than James.


********

Over the next few days, Albus made sure he was around the house as little as possible. He spent most of his time at the Burrow, returning only when he was sure James was asleep. He could have just elected to just stay there for the week, like Lily, but he needed some time alone to deal with his thoughts.

One night, when the company was especially loud at the Weasleys', he returned home earlier than usual. He wasn't worried about running into James; they'd been ignoring each other successfully when contact couldn't be avoided, and Albus was beginning to think that everything would be okay, that James had simply lost control that one time and regretted it now. But tonight Dad looked furious, so Albus headed straight for his bedroom, just in case.

He opened the door and froze.

James spun around at the sound of him entering and looked at Albus with red-rimmed eyes. "Lock it."

Albus felt his knees begin to shake, but he did as he was told. He stood looking at James, and waited.

"He hates me," James said.

Albus had no desire to even be in the same house as James, let alone reassure him of their father's love, but he had to say something. Maybe then James would calm down and leave him alone.

"He doesn't hate you – he's just disappointed that you're reaching your full potential."

James snorted. "Well, I hate him."

By extension, it meant I hate you.

"I'm not him," Albus said.

James sneered as he stood and came towards him. "No, but you'll do."

Albus instinctively took a step back. He was seconds from Apparating out of the room when James asked, "Did you watch the video?"

Albus swallowed. Maybe escape wasn't such a good idea. "Yeah."

"Titillating stuff, isn't it?"

A wave of nausea swept over Albus at the memory. "I'm not sure 'titillating' is the word I'd use."

James ignored him. "Just like your mouth." He brought up his hand and pressed down on Albus' lower lip until it felt like his teeth would break through it. "Daddy's mouth."

A chill traveled down Albus' spine.

"The girls must love it. How many times has it gotten you laid?"

Albus didn't answer; he'd never had trouble getting girls, and even boys – though he didn't take advantage of it as much as some would – James knew that.

"Get on your knees."

"James – "

"On. Your. Knees."

They stared at each other for an extended moment. James' lips were pressed together in a tight line. His nostrils flared with every charged breath.

Albus cast a glance at the disk lying on his desk, then back at his brother. Inhaling a shaky breath, he dropped to his knees. He looked off to the side as he waited, avoiding the sight of James' crotch as the sound of a zipper being lowered filled the silent room.

Fingers slid slowly into his untidy black hair, feeling, pretending. Then they curled and pulled his head forward until the musky scent of James' cock filled his nostrils. Its silky, moist head touched the corner of Albus' lips, leaving them wet. Albus closed his eyes.

"Open your eyes," James said. "I want to see them looking at me while I fuck your mouth."

There had been moments in Albus' life when he wished he didn't look so much like his father – hated it even – but he had never experienced the with such intensity. As he parted his lips, his heart began to pump pure self-loathing through his veins.

Too disgusted with the situation to put any effort into pleasing his brother, Albus closed his mouth around James' shaft and let him do as he pleased. It helped to imagine that it was someone else, a stranger perhaps, forcing himself on him.

"Use your tongue."

When Albus ignored the order, James grabbed him by the back of the head with both hands and thrust harder, faster into his mouth. Finally, he pushed too deep, and Albus gagged, his tongue contracting around the intrusion.

As soon as it happened, James went still. He even seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. Albus thought his brother might actually have been sorry for the rough treatment, but when he looked up the other boy's eyes were alight with a sort of hungry fascination. It gave Albus chills; he could almost see what small amount of consideration James had still had for him disappear entirely, as if with the wave of a wand.

When James started to move again, he seemed determined to cause Albus as much discomfort as possible. He forced his cock all the way down Albus' throat, until his nose was nestled in dark curls, and kept Albus' head in place while he choked and pounded James' thigh with his fist, desperate for air. And he did it again and again, spurred on by Albus' struggling.

Suddenly Azkaban didn't seem like such a bad place in Albus' mind. He was about to reach for his wand, ready to tell James he could show the video to whomever he wanted, when James pilled out and jerked Albus' head back by the hair.

"You don't look so all-powerful now, do you? Gagging on my cock, drool all over your chin."

"I'm not him, James." Albus' voice came out raspy. His tongue and throat muscles were sore from the exertions. "Please--"

"Shut up."

Albus pressed his lips together tighter when James nudged them with his cock.

"Don't be stupid. You don't want to spend the best years of your life in Azkaban."

Nor do I want you shoving your dick down my throat, Albus thought. Now that he'd had a few seconds of rest, however, the blowjob did seem like the better option. Albus just needed to find a way to put a stop to this brutal game.

Slowly, reluctantly, he opened his mouth again.


********

The potion fizzed and smoked when Albus dropped in the last ingredients: two separate locks of hair, his own and James'. Its effects would be permanent and irreversible, but he didn't hesitate as he filled two vials with the opaque pea-green brew. He'd had a torturous month--the amount of time it had taken to brew the potion--to think things over, and he was sure this was what he wanted. He extinguished the fire under the cauldron and headed off to James' room.

No light showed through the crack under James' door, so there was a good chance he was already asleep. Albus opened the door a couple of inches and peered inside. When the body on the bed didn't move, he stepped inside and moved closer until he stood at the edge of the mattress. James was sprawled out on top of the covers, head tilted back and lips parted. Perfect.

The potion needed to be drunk by both parties at the same time, so Albus positioned the vial in his right hand over James' mouth, and raised the one in his left hand to his own. He counted in his head, and on three, tipped one vial forward and the other back, so that the potion went simultaneously into James' mouth and his own. He poured it slowly to make sure it didn't end up in James' lungs, though the required dosage of the potent brew was only half a dram and barely anything to swallow.

Albus grimaced at the bitterness exploded on his tongue. Even in his sleep, James started coughing in protest of the flavour.

The transformation began within seconds. A sudden wave of nausea sent Albus heaving to the floor on his fours. Together with the disgusting sensation of a thousand bugs crawling beneath his skin, it was enough make him sick. Above him, James woke with a startled, pained cry.

"What's happening? Al, is that you?" James looked over the side of the bed at the intruder and started. "What the – ?"

The effects of the transformation subsided to a light tingling sensation on Albus' skin. He looked up into his brother's eyes, wide and shocked and green in the pale moonlight, and raised himself from the floor to sit on the edge of the bed. A wicked chuckle rose in his throat as James backed away.

"Hey, Albus. Want to know how looking like daddy pays off?"


The End.