DISCLAIMER: Credit and all that jazz goes to JKR. Cover art by BncaRes.

Kindly excuse any errors. It's like four A.M. but I was determined to get this finished tonight/this morning, so my slap-happiness might have affected my grammar game. Whatever, it's smut, just enjoy it. ;D -K.

I'm Not Saying I Fancy You, But...

She wasn't sure how this kept happening.

Well, all right, she knew how. Rose Weasley was a bright girl – temperamental, perhaps, but that had done nothing to sully her intelligence – and it was just a matter of retracing her steps, and she could quite easily figure out how this happened. Perhaps a better question would be why it kept happening, but…

That wouldn't do, either, because unless it was happening, Rose tried not to think about it (there was, after all, no sense in torturing herself over it; better to file it and forget it). There was too much to consider, if she bothered to consider anything at all. And when it was happening – when she was "in the moment," as it were – she wasn't interested in thinking about anything else. Her objections to his personality aside, he was quite nice company to keep when he wasn't talking, and they didn't do too much talking when this happened, in any case.

But that didn't mean she had to react favorably to his unwelcome presence, either, Rose assured herself on one particular Thursday night when the very last thing she wanted was for – this – to happen again. So when she heard that unmistakable drawl of "Evening, Weasley," she tried not to be too self-deprecating when she snapped in response.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

Used to her less-than-chipper greetings, Scorpius Malfoy was hardly fazed by yet another one. He simply matched her pace and walked alongside her, talking all the while because he knew it would annoy her.

"Now what is it that I usually want when I antagonize you in the middle of an empty corridor?"

"Shove off," Rose muttered to her feet, as she refused to look at him.

For one thing, she knew he was just having a laugh tonight; if he'd wanted anything else, he would have picked a fight right off the bat, nasty insults would be exchanged, and she'd end up pinned against the wall just before their shouts got loud enough for a professor or the caretaker to hear them. For another, more important thing, Rose didn't think it would have mattered even if he had wanted anything else, because she wasn't interested in being propositioned at the moment, not after the evening she'd had.

No, she just wanted to be left alone, so of course Scorpius sodding Malfoy was the person to come across her path first – the very last person who'd give her what she wanted and leave her be, and he was the only person for what felt like miles, even if Rose's sensible side knew what a gross misjudgment that was.

Whatever. She didn't care.

"Attitude, Weasley." Scorpius clicked his tongue disapprovingly. He was patient, and didn't mind in the least if he had to perform a little coercion to get Rose where he wanted her. That wasn't to say he'd ever push, and he'd always back off if she wanted him to; but since this was how their encounters normally began, he figured he had to test the waters a little first. "Who stuck what up your arse, then?"

"Nobody," Rose said, and she was grateful to hear that her voice was more or less steady. She was sure that Scorpius would sniff out her weaknesses like the dog he was, but at least she could say she tried. "Nothing. It's nothing. I just don't feel like doing this with you right now."

Even though she wasn't looking at him, Scorpius shrugged. "Who says we're doing anything? I'm just headed back to my common room, and you happen to be going the same way."

"Fine." Rose turned abruptly on her heel and started in the opposite direction. "See you around, Malfoy."

"Hold on –" Scorpius's hand caught her arm, stopping her in her tracks. "What's the matter with you? Come on, really."

Rose shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn't want to tell him, and it wasn't necessarily because it was Malfoy, either; she didn't want to tell anybody, hence the whole wanting-to-be-left-alone thing.

"Nothing," she reiterated, still not looking at him even though he was standing in front of her, his grip tight on her arm. "What do you care, anyway, even if it was something?"

"I –" Scorpius realized that he didn't have anything to say, so he quit talking and weighed his options. On the one hand, he could risk his dignity and the six years' worth of friendly antagonism he and Rose had established, and he could tell her that antagonism was just a defense mechanism for an adolescent idiot's pride and that aforementioned idiot fancied her.

But… on the other hand… he didn't have to do any of that. And that option was much more appealing to him.

"Just asking," he said like it didn't matter. He dropped her arm and shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from touching her again; touching her never led to anything good – well, that wasn't true, not in the slightest, but it didn't seem like the best idea right now. "It wouldn't exactly be good for morale if one of the Wizarding world's golden children had a mental breakdown in a Hogwarts corridor after curfew. So. Just checking up."

"Would you sod off, then?" Rose snapped. The effort it took to keep herself from bursting into tears was exhausting and irritating and she just wanted him to go away so she could have her mental breakdown in peace. "God, Malfoy, don't act like you care just so you can make me feel worse, okay? Does being a complete arse get you off or something, or is it just your mission to make sure I feel as wretched as I possibly can?"

Scorpius blinked at her, taken aback by her outburst. It wasn't like he wasn't used to Rose's mood swings, but she'd certainly never been on the verge of tears before, and Scorpius wasn't sure what one was supposed to do with a crying woman. He couldn't even tell her that he fancied her, so how was he supposed to offer her any sort of emotional condolences?

Rose seemed to be of a similar mentality, since she groaned and shoved him out of pure frustration. "Honestly, you're the most useless git I've ever met!"

"Useless?" Scorpius echoed, coming to at the utterance of such a demeaning word. "Is that what you think? Because I'll show you useless, Weasley –"

He caught her wrists and backed her up two steps so that she was caught between his body and the stone wall – like it always was – and his mouth took hers roughly, frantically, like he needed her now and later wasn't soon enough, like he needed every last inch and he couldn't wait because he was selfish and greedy and he wanted her, all to himself –

"Knock it off." Rose's mouth tore itself from his and she shoved him again. "I told you, I don't feel like doing this with you right now."

"Why not?" Scorpius kept his hold on her wrists and frowned at her. Brute, carnal force never seemed to bother her before; in fact, she'd been perfectly willing every other time. He wondered if something had happened, or if perhaps she was just over whatever it was they'd been doing. The possibility made him defensive. "Had enough of me already? Or have you been getting off with some other bloke?"

"Shut up," Rose said. She kicked his shin to distract herself from the tears that she didn't even feel any right to cry, and that only made her want to cry more. "But if you must know – you great, stupid, insufferable prat – you're the other bloke. Carter just ditched me because of you, and not even because he found out we've shagged against every damn wall in this place, but because I 'pay too much attention' to you or some rubbish, but that doesn't –"

"Carter?" Scorpius repeated incredulously, having apparently turned a deaf ear to the rest of Rose's diatribe. "Carter Rigley? Don't tell me you were actually dating that idiot."

Rose glared at him. It was true that she and Carter hadn't made anything official, but that didn't mean what she'd been doing behind his back was excusable. And the things he'd said to her… Well, suffice it to say she was quite happy it was over, but that didn't do much to soothe her currently bruised pride.

"Don't look at me like that, Weasley," Scorpius went on when Rose didn't confirm or deny his question; he found that the answer was of the utmost importance to him and, as such, he didn't have time for these games. "Were you going with him or not?"

"Nothing serious."

"Did you shag him?"

"No," Rose said, and kicked him again. "No, I didn't. The only person I've ever shagged is you, God knows why, so congratulations, Malfoy, because another one of your shiny baubles belongs solely to you. Now let me go sulk in peace, would you?"

Scorpius ignored the slight against him and asked, "What's there to sulk about? Rigley's the prat, not me, so I don't know what you're about to cry over."

"Damn it, Malfoy." Rose shoved him again, this time hard enough that he took a step back, giving her room to breathe air that didn't smell so strongly of him. "For one thing, I'm not about to cry, all right? And for another, even if I was, you would know why, if you stopped thinking about yourself long enough to ask!"

"I did ask!" he protested. "Right away, I asked you what was wrong –"

"Right, and as soon as you found out, you proceeded to trivialize my problems, as if my feelings about them don't matter!" she pointed out. "Yeah, real noble of you; you're a catch, I'm shocked that anyone can keep their hands off you long enough for you to humiliate me."

"That's not what I meant to do!" Scorpius shot back, a little desperate now. There was always a point in their arguments where he got desperate, and this time seemed to be coming around just a tad earlier than usual. "All I meant is that Rigley's an idiot and you can do better, anyway, so why do you care about someone who makes you feel this badly?"

Rose threw her hands up in exasperation. "Oh, I don't know," she said, voice heavy with sarcasm. "Maybe I should ask myself the same thing about you and I'll have it all figured out!"

"Oh, it's touching to know that you care, Weasley," Scorpius drawled, the words coming out much colder than he'd meant them to.

It was Rose's turn to blink at him. She was used to fights with Scorpius; that's practically all they'd done since they'd known each other, and they'd only recently added the occasional snog and shag to the rotation. But the way he was talking to her now, like some sort of sulking, bad-tempered – ugh! Fine.

"Fine," she said aloud. "Just – fine. Whatever. Touching to know you care, too, and by the way – since you're so interested and all – Carter told me that he didn't fancy going out with one of 'Malfoy's slags,' which is why he ditched me tonight. So thanks. For that."

"I –" Scorpius's fists clenched at hearing what, exactly, Carter Rigley had said to Rose, and his voice softened when he spoke to her. "You're not a slag. And you said it yourself, he doesn't even know anything about – us."

"Yeah, well…" Rose swiped at her eyes. Accusations, irritation, another row, it wasn't exactly the recipe for a feel-good night. "He guessed there was something, or the potential for something, or… I don't know. I just wasn't worth the risk, and it was enough for him to accuse me of a bunch of other things I've never done. So, okay, he's not worth it or anything, but that doesn't make me feel better, either, and –"

Rose took a deep breath to steady herself. She was babbling, and there was no way Scorpius actually cared about any of the rubbish coming out of her mouth. She was just another girl to him, wasn't she? Only good for some meaningless and yet inexplicable snog or shag that always seemed like one-offs but inevitably spiraled off into another meeting, and another, and she was riddled with anxiety and jealousy and a whole lot of other things that just weren't her, and she couldn't tell what they meant but she could take a pretty good guess and it just…

Oh, she didn't even know anymore.

"Aaargh!" She shook her arms out as if to rid herself of whatever demon was making her talk so much, feel so much that she couldn't explain away. "Forget it! Forget. It. I – I'm just going to go to bed."

"Mine's free," Scorpius offered with a grin before he could stop himself. He could say he couldn't help it, she was just so fucking sexy, but – while that second bit was true – he should know better. For Merlin's sake, he wasn't an animal.

To his surprise (and secret, immense relief), though, Rose didn't turn him down. She didn't glare or shout at him or pull her wand. She opened her mouth as if she were going to say something – a brutal rebuff, he expected – but then she closed it, opened it again, and said, "Could you do something for me first?"

"Yeah," Scorpius said, without even pausing to consider it. "Yes. I mean. What is it?"

Rose offered him the smallest of smiles and took a tentative step forward. "Kiss me."

"Weasley –"

"You've done it a thousand times before, Malfoy; just do it again."

Well, that was something he couldn't argue with, and like hell he wanted to, so Scorpius closed the half-step gap between them and took her mouth again, like he had earlier, only this time there was no shoving or kicking or general air of discontent. Rose responded eagerly to him – her lips molded into his, her hands imprinted into his neck, her chest sank into his when he pushed her back against that wall and leaned into her.

For all of their arguments and his faults that she couldn't seem to reconcile herself with, Rose couldn't help but feel good when Scorpius touched her. No matter what Carter or anyone else might say, she certainly didn't feel like a slag or any of the other names they'd call her. It wasn't as if she deserved those names, anyway; she was at perfect liberty to kiss whomever she felt like. But it was comforting to know that the bloke she was kissing thought she was a person, not a baseless label.

Maybe that's why she wanted him to kiss her – so she'd feel better after an otherwise completely shite evening – but somehow, when his hands moved to clutch at her hips, Rose felt like this was more than a pity snog. It always felt like more than whatever she arbitrarily decided it was, but she never allowed herself to think about it thoroughly enough to figure out what, exactly, that "more" was. She had her suspicions, but if it was only one-sided, then…

"Scorpius," she gasped out when he released her mouth in favor of her neck, "what are we doing?"

"Snogging," he informed her shortly, as he was much more interested in the skin behind her ear than any attempts at conversation. "Surely you're familiar with the act? We've done it enough times, and I suppose you did it with Rigley, too?"

Rose felt pang of guilt at Scorpius's correct assumption. She and Carter had snogged a few times throughout their admittedly short courtship, and while it was just as heated as any other hormone-driven rendezvous, Carter had been sloppy and fumbling and Rose had – more than once – fantasized about Scorpius during those other, less-than-stimulating broom cupboard meetings.

Scorpius took her silence to mean yes, she had snogged that Ravenclaw ponce. He wasn't angry – he had no right to be, really, since he and Rose hadn't talked exclusivity, or anything else, for that matter; their mouths had always been far too preoccupied to make conversation.

No, Scorpius wasn't angry that Rose had been fooling around with someone else before now, just as long as it didn't happen again, and just as long as Rigley kept his incessantly running mouth shut for the rest of term. He thought he hadn't liked that stick-up-his-arse prick before, but now Scorpius was rather drawn to the idea of ripping his head off, or at the very least planting a good black eye on that smarmy face of his. For now, though, Scorpius thought he could satisfy himself with making Rigley's ex forget every last thing about him.

By the time they'd disentangled themselves long enough to get back to the Slytherin boys' dormitory (thank Merlin everyone else seemed to abide by curfew, Rose thought), Scorpius was already keeping up his end of the bargain he'd set for himself; Rose wouldn't have been able to pick Carter Rigley out of a lineup if she tried, and her mind was racing Scorpius Scorpius Scorpius so much that there wasn't room for anything else.

That, however, wasn't quite what Scorpius wanted, he discovered as he and Rose tumbled onto his mattress. They were still kissing fiercely, feverishly, with a sense of urgency that the situation didn't call for; they were tugging at each other's clothes, tangling their fingers in the other's hair, breathing deep and sharp and more loudly than could be excused if one of Scorpius's dormmates woke up to the sound (he cast a hasty Muffliato to prevent any potential awkwardness).

But distracted as he was when Rose's hands shoved inside his trousers, Scorpius suddenly wanted to make sure that she remembered every other bloke at whome she'd ever so much as cast a second look, just so she knew, without a doubt, that none of them could do what he could for her.

"Rose." Her name was barely audible as Scorpius breathed it against her lips and she swallowed the sound. He allowed his hands to drift down her slim, lanky frame until he reached the edge of her skirt; he rubbed circles over her thighs, rising steadily higher, while his mouth traveled lower and he continued murmuring into her skin… "Did Rigley ever do this for you?"

Rose moaned softly as Scorpius's tongue traced the lines of her neck. Her fingers twisted into his white-blonde hair and he groaned at the way she tugged at him, the pressure in his skull that manifested in his open trousers to press against her free, seeking hand.

"Did you ever see him hard for you?" Scorpius demanded into her sweet-smelling skin. His hands pushed into her knickers and he thrust against her to emphasize his point. "He ever see you wet for him? Come on, Rose, tell me I'm the only one who turns you on."

"Gonna have to do a bit more than order me around for me to admit that to you, you presumptuous git," Rose managed to say through her shallow breaths as Scorpius slipped two fingers into her and curled them. "Oh, hell…"

He smirked and bit the base of her neck, marking her low enough so that she could hide if it if she wanted to. He was good at what he did, she knew that already, but Scorpius was determined to prove to her that he could be considerate, too; he wasn't just that presumptuous, insufferable git who wanted to get her into bed. Sure, maybe it had started off like that, but now it was more because he wanted her to himself, and Scorpius never wanted a girl to himself. He couldn't care less what his short-lived paramours did or with whom, but Rose…

He just wanted her.

"Rigley ever tell you how sexy you are?" he whispered as he began undoing the buttons on her shirt.

"I'm not," Rose said reflexively. She didn't mean to sound modest, since that was one of the last things Rose Weasley was; she wasn't supercilious or anything, but she wasn't one to downplay any of her attributes, learned or otherwise. But then, her bedroom-addled brain never worked quite at its normal frequency.

Scorpius snorted as he pulled the shirt down Rose's arms. "Bite me, Weasley, you know you're dead fit."

"No need to romance me," Rose told him. She didn't want to talk about how good-looking she may or may not be. It didn't matter, and anyway the fact that she was in bed with Scorpius Malfoy suggested that he found her attractive enough to be there, so what did she care about the specifics?

"I'm not romancing you," Scorpius protested, frowning a little, but Rose cut off any further discussion with a simple unclip of her bra. His eyes dropped to her exposed chest and he shrugged off their debate. "Right, then, I suppose this is more important…"

"Glad you got the hint," Rose muttered, and she pulled his mouth back to hers.

Impatient for skin-on-skin contact, they made quick work of the rest of their clothes – shoes toppled off the edge of the bed, shirts fell to the floor in wrinkled disarray, Rose's skirt ended up flung over a bedpost, and Scorpius's trousers were tangled somewhere in the blankets.

As soon as Scorpius dragged Rose's knickers down her legs, he moved his mouth in between them and sucked on her, talking every time he came up for air:

"Rigley didn't do this to you, did he?" he asked, and his eyes went to Rose for confirmation. She shook her head, her breathing too labored for her to form words. "Good."

"I'm going to fuck you until you can't stand straight…" His hands drifted up her body until they reached her breasts and he kneaded them with rough palms and callused fingers.

"I want you so bad, Rose," he groaned as he licked her. "Merlin, you taste good…"

His mouth was trailing back up her body then, his tongue ravished her skin and he devoured her waiting lips. Their tongues clashed and slid and sucked. Rose's fingers tangled back into his hair and her other hand bit half-moons into his chest. Scorpius's fingers, meanwhile, slid back inside her and pumped a few times, making sure she was ready for him; her hands followed suit, stroking him, then guiding him towards her entrance.

"You're quiet tonight, Rose," Scorpius remarked as he kissed her, teased her, but all the same he was curious at her uncharacteristic reticence; she tended to be much more vocal when things got heated, in any sense of the word. "Something wrong?"

"No." Truthfully, despite her body's response, Rose felt more preoccupied tonight. Every time Scorpius touched her, her brain kicked into gear and tried to analyze the way it made her feel, and she kept coming to that same conclusion, the one she wasn't sure would be reciprocated. She leaned up to catch his mouth once more, and her hips suggestively matched the movement of her neck. "I just don't want to talk right now."

Even though Scorpius suddenly felt more compelled to talk to her than ever – just quit the fooling around and talk to her – he knew that wasn't what she wanted right then, so instead he met her kiss, deepened it, and slammed into her. Their lips clung and disconnected, their breathing matched each other's in pace and roughness while their hips met the same way. He thrust in, she moved up.

Scorpius watched Rose's face, the way her eyes closed and how her teeth ground into her bottom lip whenever her hips ground into his. Her brow furrowed slightly in pain and then relaxed when he lessened his motions, smoothed out his movements. He slowed down considerably then; he thought that perhaps she wanted just another short, brutal fuck to forget whatever issues Rigley had instilled in her, but Scorpius would be damned if he did something to fulfill some other bloke's purpose. He wanted Rose to consciously accept that he was better for her than Rigley or anyone else was, but that didn't mean he was willing to erase their mistakes. He just wanted Rose to realize that he, at least, would try not to make any.

He moved slowly, more purposefully, making sure to hit her everywhere he knew would wind her up. His mouth moved over her jaw…

"You're beautiful, Rose," he whispered into her neck, and Rose felt the stirrings of tears prick at her eyes again. Oh, God, she wasn't going to start crying now, was she? No, nobody was that good of a shag.

But then his lips were pulling, sucking, planting open-mouth kisses up her neck, and his hand was meandering down her body, touching and stroking and caressing, and his other hand was guiding her hip, slowly and gently and rhythmically. He was kissing her, and he was murmuring words she couldn't decipher, and the way he was touching her… She blinked back the blurriness of her vision, bit her lip, arched her neck, her hips, ran her fingers through his hair and down his chest…

She said his name on another sigh, tinged with a near-sobbing moan of ecstasy, and he followed, grounding her name out roughly as his teeth pinched her earlobe.

They were quiet, drained. Scorpius still lay on top of her, his hot breath bursting against her skin, and Rose's hands were limp in his hair and against his back. Their chests hitched and Rose closed her eyes, reveling in a post-orgasmic bliss that was tainted by the nagging little voice in the back of her mind that she just couldn't shut up and she wanted it to, so badly, she just wanted to take a moment and relax, but she couldn't and it was frustrating and it was all building up again and before she knew it she was blurting it all out.

"I fancy you, you know," she said, unable to stop herself. Scorpius stiffened but she kept going. "I do and it's rubbish, because how can you like someone you don't even like, y'know? And it's not just the shagging – that's how it started and I suppose it's a contributing factor, but now that's not all it is, even though I realize this means next to nothing to you, I just feel like –"

"What? Hold on –" Scorpius lifted his head then, brow creased in very slight annoyance as his eyes searched her face. "What are you on about, this means 'next to nothing' to me?"

Rose blinked, confused. "Well, I thought –"

"I don't care what you thought, or think," he cut across her, "because I know. And what I know is that you mean a lot more than some annoying little know-it-all who I like to snog when nobody else is around. But you were too busy being bent out of shape by Carter bleeding Ripley, of all people, to figure that out yourself."

"You could have told me."

Scorpius matched her glare. "I'm telling you now."

"Yeah, well…" Rose tried not to roll her eyes. "Before."

"I thought you'd hex my bollocks off."

"You wouldn't be any good to me without your bollocks!"

He smirked at that. "I see what you're really after, then," he teased. "So much for fancying me."

"I do," Rose argued vehemently. Well, she'd already said it, so she figured there was no harm in repeating it now. "I've noticed that you haven't necessarily returned those sentiments, though, so perhaps I should just be going so I can stew in my rejection in peace."

In answer to such an absurd proposal, Scorpius caught her in another rough kiss, pouring in all his want and affection for her, all his possessive greed and insane desire to do anything – anything – for her. She sighed into his mouth and his body slid over hers once more, her fingers twisted back through his silken hair, and his cupped her face and gripped her waist; they demonstrated two sides of relief and immersed themselves in it.

"I do fancy you, Weasley," Scorpius whispered. His tongue flicked out to trace her lips. "I don't shag you senseless on a regular basis just for the thrill of it. So shut up your stupid ideas about me not giving a damn, and go out with me before I've got to curse every last wanker who comes after you."

"Hmmm." Rose smiled, completely at ease after so many weeks of coiled-up emotional tension. "Poor Carter."

"Rigley can rot in hell," Scorpius growled as he busied himself with her neck once more. Merlin, did he love that neck, and he was going to sprinkle it with as many kissed bruises as she would allow, and he would gladly offer his up for her to do the same. (His father would be so disappointed in such a blatant lack of decorum, but Scorpius couldn't bring himself to care very much at the moment.)

"Well, if that's not steamy bedroom talk, I don't know what is," Rose replied dryly to his comment about Carter, not that she really minded, and another grin touched the corners of her mouth.

Scorpius grinned against her shoulder. "Oh, Rose, you haven't seen anything yet…"