Human Scraps

Chapter Two: Emotional Pins and Needles



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I’m out of my mind

You’re not my kind

It’s not my time

to wonder why

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Lying on his bed, Severus tries to decide what it means. He has always admired Lucius of course. Looked up to him. It is only natural - such a charismatic, intelligent older boy. Boy. It doesn’t seem possible that Lucius is still only seventeen. He is already like a grown man.

What does it mean? The heat from Lucius’ hand has done something, sparked... something. If he didn’t know better, Severus would swear it was some kind of magic, but he never saw a wand.

He shifts onto his side, then returns to lying on his back. The feeling of lying on his side is unnerving. He can feel his heartbeat too clearly, and the mortality of it scares him. It could so easily just stop.

He will go to see Lucius tomorrow. Lucius is the only person right now who can make him feel real. He needs this.

Hugging his arms around his skinny chest, Severus closes his eyes and tries to sleep.



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Dry, scratchy eyelids. He rubs his eyes for the third time in as many minutes.

Severus thought that with so little sleep, he would not be able to concentrate in his classes today, but he was wrong. It is a kind of hyper-awareness, fingers twitching, eyes darting. Everyone is moving too slowly. The tiredness has added a desperate edge to his consciousness.

It is not helped by his anticipation of this afternoon.



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The room is well furnished, tasteful. He would expect nothing less of the Slytherin head boy. Dark velvet drapes hang from the four-poster bed in the corner, and there are two very comfortable-looking chairs sitting next to a small table, opposite the fireplace. It is far nicer than the dormitory the other boys sleep in, and even has its own bathroom. Severus feels a little jealous.

“Severus. Come in.”

Vaguely surprised at being called by his first name, Severus makes his feet move into the room. Standing just inside the doorway, he feels strangely out of place.

Lucius is still in his school robes, collar undone, his usually immaculate hair slightly askew. Severus is shocked when he realises that he thinks Lucius looks better like this.



“A group of second years decided to cause trouble this afternoon.”

Severus had wondered about the collection of statue-like students in the common room as he came in, looks of apprehension frozen on their faces.

Lucius offers him a seat, and he sits.

“Would you like a drink?”

Severus nods, looking around the room. He doesn’t remembeeingeing any jugs of water or pumpkin juice when he came in.

Reaching into a cupboard Lucius pulls out a bottle of Ogden’s Firewhiskey. His eyes wide, Severus stares at the amber liquid.

“Don’t look so shocked. Here.”

He pours some into a glass and hands it to Severus, who gulps it down, his throat burning along with his eyes.

Lucius smiles. Sits in the chair opposite, glass in hand, and surveys him.

Eyes rake over his face like a chilling wind, white-hot hands grasp his pale cheeks, lips...

Lips–

Lips?

Severus pulls away. Did Lucius just kiss him?

Lips, insistent now, meet his. Part them. And he wants... no. No. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. Severus shakes his head, confused.

Lucius is sitting back in his seat, looking perfectly calm, while Severus is almost wishing he could go back to his numb state. There are too many things whirling around inside him. It makes him feel almost ill.

“You really do take things too seriously.”

Severus looks up, surprised to hear a voice, when his will obviously never work again. The older boy is watching him, and... smiling.

“Why –? ”

Lucius simply arches a fine white brow, and drains his glass.

“Why not?”

Why not. Severus knows his father would have a lot to say about ‘why not’, but strangely, he doesn’t care. Feelings have been coming back to him in sharp bursts, and he has no idea what to call the one now causing a fiery ache inside him.

Lucius pulls at his collar, loosening it further, and leans back in his chair. The white triangle of skin shifts in and out of view as his robes move.

Severus knows what to call it. He puts down his glass carefully, and this time when those lips meet his, he doesn’t stop them.