1927
Late in the evening after finishing his daily routine Albus confidently walks through corridors, lit only by moonlight. He anticipates taking another dose of feigned happiness. He straightens his waistcoat and shirt collar, tiding his hair with an elegant movement of his hand as if he is preparing to meet someone. Well, sort of. Outside, a large white owl flies by but Dumbledore does not pay any attention to this, his entire consciousness is focused only on the destination. The anticipation of both pain and joy makes his soul tremble, forcing him to move faster.
He was warned that this could make him addicted, but he didn't believe. However, even if he had believed, he would hardly have refused such an opportunity. When else can he see something he so sincerely desires? Or somebody.
Yeah, the headlines are strewn with photos of Gellert with his imperturbable face and indifferent gaze. He tears off his mask only in front of the closest. Does anyone else but you know that? Albus stops for a second. If only everything went differently back then! You could have still... The man takes an elegant phial from his breast pocket. Blood pact. Mistake of the youth? Oh, no, Dumbledore will never consider this a mistake.
Hormones, boiling blood, similarity of views and attraction are simple components of the recipe for the beginning of teenage romance. Albus realized his feelings for a friend much later than Gellert became aware of them. He had always been more mature in love affairs. Why and where did he learn it? Albus didn't want to know. For young Dumbledore, all these feelings were completely new and it's hard to say he was really happy about that. He did not understand how to take the first step.
Fortunately, he did not have to. One winter evening, Grindelwald himself came closer than needed and covered his lips. A wave of electricity passed through the body but the mind demanded an immediate continuation. Reluctantly moving away, the blond man said: "I didn't want to wait for damn forever until you take this step." Albus looked down blushing and reunited their lips. So that's how happened their second kiss and the third, and the fourth ... and even the twentieth.
"I wanna know for sure that we'll never break up. No matter what happen," Gellert said after more than a month of their dating, lying in an unmade bed. His boyfriend was looking at him in the reflection of a mirror hanging on the wall, sipping water from a glass.
"Do you still think I can leave you? So childish," he asked gigging. The blond frowned, turning onto his back.
"Oh no, my dear, it's naive to believe that nothing will ever stand between us," he said. "Maybe we should get married?"
Albus burst into a strong cough.
"You know, there is a thing that is more powerful than a marriage. That cannot be betrayed," he began.
"Are you talking about the blood pact? It may be dangerous," he asked surprised but excited.
"Yes," Albus agreed, sitting down on his knees in front of the guy, "and so I suggest we swear that we will never stand up against each other."
"This is not exactly what I wanted!" the blond tried to be indignant, but his complaints drowned in the next kiss.
It really binds them even after all these time. It always will. Albus just can't lose his last hope. He squeezes the silver product more tightly and puts it in his left breast pocket.
Having closed the massive wooden door, the man sighs heavily and looks around the room. There is a mirror hidden by a dark cloth in its center. He spends too much time here, sooner or later it will affect his condition and people will suspect that something is wrong. You should give up on that. Unfortunately, it's beyond his control.
Dumbledore throws off the fabric, dying for a second in front of the power of the ancient mirror. "I show not your face but your heart's desire," the inscription above the mirror surface says. The man knows this perfectly. He spends every evening in the company of his dreams, realizing that there is no way they become real again. Their paths diverged many years ago and, alas, nobody can fix it.
Albus focuses his gaze on his own reflection. In a second the image of the once beloved man appears. Once? He can see not a beautiful young man with whom he was so unconditionally in love but a handsome adult who has not lost his confidence and excessive attractiveness. A casually turned-up shirt collar, a tie tied around a bare neck in a compartment with the formal coat and a perfect hairstyle - this is so Gellert.
Albus sadly looks at his shaven temples, remembering how he liked running his fingers through the once-long hair, touch and twist them. Of course, the blond didn't like it - he didn't let anyone touch his hair, except for Albus of course. How can the heart still tremble because of the first love? Maybe because it was the only one?
Grindelwald in the reflection confidently looks at the man directly in his eyes, not looking up or blinking, as if trying to capture his image in his mind. His gaze is full of calm and at the same time a powerful force. Dumbledore feels weak in front of this man. Whether there is a pact or not - he will never stand against him. The heart won't let him.
He swipes the back of his hand across the cold surface of the mirror, touching the blond's cheek, but the reflection remains static. It's not him. It is just your imagination. Your deepest desire and your worst pain. The professor closes his eyes and says in a half-whisper: "I wish I knew where you are now."
"Oh, it seemed to me that you are well aware of my location," a voice with a quiet grin says right into Dumbledore's ear. He opens his eyes and stands still for a fraction of a moment, trying to realize what happened. The other hand gently holds a semicircle over his shoulder, and he turns around, immediately straightening up and pulling down a slightly raised vest.
"Gellert."
"Albus."
They stare at each other for a long time, completely ignoring the intense silence that reigned in the room. The professor's eyes run over the man's face, marveling at the almost flickering whiteness of his skin, the expressiveness of his eyes, so calmly watching at caught off guard Dumbledore. Wise men say when you see your beloved one you forget how to breathe. Albus breathes often and intermittently, struggling to maintain his composure. The heart is pounding like crazy, squeezing painfully just because of the presence of the dark wizard.
"Why are you here?"- having pumped air into his lungs, Albus asked. Gellert smirks at him, then bypasses him with a cat's grace, sweeping his finger across his shoulder blade.
"I wanted to check if I still see the same," he begins. "Though it seems that the mirror has lost its magical powers."
The blond smiles at himself in the mirror. Albus turns to him, with a wrinkle between his eyebrows. Gellert looks at his reflection:
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks.
Dumbledore hesitates for a moment but then takes a big step towards the object of his affections, bumping him into the mirror surface. There are no words in his head, instincts gain the upper hand and the man simply cannot resist them. Using the confusion of Albus Grindelwald decides to take the first step himself. He pulls Dumbledore to himself clutching at the collar of his shirt and falls to his lips.
Warm bliss spreads through the lower abdomen, tying a fiery knot. The long-awaited intimacy intoxicates stronger than the most powerful potion. Dumbledore's palm touches Grindelwald's cheek, gently running down on the neck, loosening the tie, sensually presses to the place where the neck connects to the shoulder. The blond exhales, breaking the kiss. Albus needs continuation. Turning his head he again touches his beloved lips, pretty red and slightly swollen, which stands out on white skin.
Grindelwald kisses skillfully, confidently and shamelessly. Widely opens his mouth, allowing the partner's tongue to get inside, playfully wields his own one, firmly engaging with the lover's. His kiss is also a battle, in which he defeats and lets be defeated. The self-denial makes him an extremely passionate lover that drives Albus crazy.
He insanely wants this vain jerk who kisses him now like there's no tomorrow. Blondie's hands lie on Dumbledore's waist slowly crawling onto his hips, pulling him slightly toward him. A light push and professor's crotch touches his lover's. They feel the tension of each other through loose fabric.
Albus's lips move away from Gellert's, passes to the neck with short kisses, wetly sucking on delicate skin. Blonde reflexively shrinks from tickling, a light blush covers his cheeks.
Feeling a slight tingling on his lips from lack of attention, Grindelwald wraps his hands around the man's face, drawing attention to the softness of his thick beard, and again touches his lips, slightly pulling his lower lip with his teeth, teasing and sucking slightly.
He knows very well how much the brown-haired man likes his specious debauchery and feeling his power over him. Damn owner.
"I want you," the blond whispers to his lips, stamping each syllable with a kiss, and puts the knee between the man's legs.
Albus.
Grabbing a shameless lover by the waist, he teleports them to another room.
"Is it allowed to transgress at Hogwarts?" Gellert asks, moving away from the brown-haired.
"For me - yes," he replies, smiling.
"Since when?" the blond continues, still doubting.
"From now on," Dumbledore explains, engaging his lover into a new kiss. Blond feels his hands on his own hips and wraps his hands around his neck.
They hadn't seen each other for so long, but when they met, they barely exchanged a couple of phrases, trying to move to a horizontal plane as soon as possible. Sworn enemies? This is definitely not about them. Lovers? No. Sworn lovers? Well, it makes sense but sounds like a title of a cheap erotic novel.
You can think for a long time and look for evidence of one or another description or classification of their relationship, but in the end to define is to limit.
Albus quickly moves towards the bed, never breaking a kiss with Grindelwald.
When the shin touches the side of the bed, the blond realizes that the flight won't take a long time to wait — and after a moment he lies on a large soft bed with soft purple bed-clothes.
The man hanging over him smiles guiltily, but then again falls to the delicate skin, simultaneously unbuttoning his tight vest and then his shirt. Finally, he reaches the skin of the abdomen, the Blond shivers from the comparative coolness of his hands a slight shiver runs down his back and even over the back of the head.
Dumbledore leads his palm from the chest down to the stomach and under the black pants. Gellert hardly breathes after their kiss, his ears are red, and he tries not to look at the brown-haired, shamelessly unzipping his pants with his teeth. Out of all the possible ways to get the blond rid of his pants, Albus chose the most smutty one.
Feeling like the lower part of the clothes finally leaves his body, the blond smacks his lips with satisfaction. Then puts his hands behind his head and waits. He waits for the man to touch something that has been waiting for attention for way too long.
Brushing away the pre-cum and rubbing it over the entire length, he makes the first movement up and down. Pressing on the frenulum he makes several more hand movements and immediately afterwards gently takes the head into his mouth feeling the tart taste.
Albus runs his tongue over the crimson head, slightly teases the urethra, holds the tip of the tongue along the entire length, smoothly passes to the testicles, gently playing with each of them.
"Take care, oh," the blond tries to complain when Dumbledore, without stopping to play with his testicles, again squeezed his thumb on the frenulum, rubbing it slightly. "Take care of something more important."
No need to ask twice. The request has arrived — carry it out. Dumbledore opens his mouth wide and smoothly takes in the half the length, immediately moving his hand up and down richly wetting with spit.
69 sets a quick speed. It is obvious that he has been holding back way too long. Too long. Gellert almost groans, but tries not to look like a complete slut, he just breathes very deeply and often. He exhales hotly, puts his hand on the back of the man's head, runs his finger through his hair. He likes to feel a slight semblance of power over him. He is also an owner.
Feeling that the final is close, Grindelwald calls Albus with a gesture.
"I want to please you too," the blond whispers in his ear.
They take off their shirts simultaneously. Dumbledore falls to the white breast for a moment, inhaling with pleasure the smell of his lover, bites the nipple. He missed him so much. He missed their intimacy. He would give anything to bind him to himself and never let go.
Meanwhile, blond actively takes in Professor's cock in the mouth, actively helping with a hand. Strongly presses the head, penetrates the urethra, licks the lubricant and again deeply takes in.
Sharply, dirty, wet - Grindelwald known as a self-confident and proud man, sucks like a real slut. Albus smirks. Only you can see him like that. No one but you.
"I wanna put it in," says Dumbledore, raising the blonde's face, "can I?"
"I'm not ready yet," Gellert calmly replies, "there."
"Maybe we should change the position, then?"
Hackneyed 69. Grindewals continues to suck professor's cock devotedly. Albus slowly but surely stretches his partner, realizing that it will not be easy. Their first time after so many years. So long-awaited, but so crumpled and not sensual enough. He could slowly make the blonde have an orgasm, with him screaming out intense moans.
But the desire covers with terrible force and all he wants is to break all the chains and just rigidly fuck the unyielding blond who has done a lot of troubles and brought many problems not only to Dumbledore, but to the world as a whole. To throw out all the feelings and all the emotions that accumulated for many years. Does he... Does he really understand how hard it is for Albus to be apart? To childish and immature. That's why Dumbledore will never confess something like that.
But now, when three fingers freely enter and the blond twitches at every touch on his prostate, and pre-cum drips abundantly from his penis, it doesn't matter to him. It doesn't matter whether Gellert feels the same emotionally, physically he is just as excited and jiggy as Albus and demands for immediate relief, realizing that only fingers are not enough anymore.
Hitting the point, the blond turns over. Cowboy. He runs his hand over the wet from the pre-ejaculate and split cock and begins to sit down smoothly. He is well stretched, but the discomfort is still there, so the brown-haired tries to mask it by jerking him off.
Having taken as deep as possible, he begins to move back and forth, feeling how the cock rubs inside almost without delivering unpleasant sensations. Pleasure in its purest form.
"Maybe you will move somehow differently?" Albus asks, not impressed by such movements.
Gellert again bends down to him and kisses and begins to move up and down, feeling how dirty it might look.
Dumbledore just goes crazy, clawing into the lover's buttocks. He tries to help him take in more. He moves his hips so that despite the frequency of their movements, their bodies aren't separated for a moment. The groans of two voices sound in unison with the creaking of the bed and the slapping of two bodies.
It's hot and smells of sex inside the room. Men lost the rhythm of their breathing and are unable to restore it because of the wild desire to enjoy each other.
The missionary - Dumbledore's favourite position - takes over. He likes how Gellert crosses his legs behind his back, how his fingers cling to his back, leaving long bands from each wave of pleasure. He enjoys seeing his beloved face right in front, soaked up and flushed, just the same as his own. He likes kissing, kissing, kissing my beloved lips and neck. Each thrust is followed by a groan, Dumbledore's hand jerks off Gellert's cock.
Bright orgasm covers both. Gellert cums first, bursting violently on his stomach, squeezing his toes tightly and squeezing inside. Albus cums right after feeling shame for having done it inside the blond.
Next morning the professor wakes up alone in an unmade bed with a wide open window. The blond did not leave a letter, a message, or at least some nasty things. Nothing. Dumbledore dresses slowly, sadly recalling the events of last night. Putting on the vest, he notices. Blood pact. It disappeared. He smiles bitterly. So, that's why you came.
"Well, let's see what you say at our next meeting, my dear Gellert," Albus said with a smile, taking out their real blood pact from the desk.