It was a dark and rather stormy night on the 25th of October. Horace Slughorn was sitting in his ofice, busy correcting potions essays from his 6th years. Harry Potter's work was laid out on the table before him, and Slughorn was scribbling comments on it with a short, stubby brown quill. He sighed deeply upon finishing the last line and graded the paper with a small, black 'E'. Not often did Potter make anything less than an 'F', but it seemed like the boy had not had his heart in this particular essay. Such a shame, too. The subject was one of Slughorn's personal favourites, and he had hoped that his new protegé would find it as interesting as he did.
With a deep sigh, Slughorn put down his pen and leaned back in the soft leather chair which he had created specifically for today. His own chairs were always the best to use for correcting essays. Just when he had begun to doze off, the door to his office opened with a loud creak. Slughorn opened his eyes slightly, already irritated at the student who dared enter his office at this hour. But, to his imminent surprise, it was not a student. It was the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. When Slughorn immediately made a move to stand up, Dumbledore waved his healthy hand, beckoning for Slughorn to stay put, "Please." Dumbledore's voice was both insistant and strangely questioning in tone. Slughorn wondered why - it had been almost a whole decade since Dumbledore had asked something of him with this tone.
"Albus. I'm surprised to see you at this hour. Can I help you?" Slughorn asked, sounding as puzzled as he felt. These nightly visits had not happened since they were both much younger than they were now, and they had usually led to an activity that Slughorn had not practised for many years. Dumbledore closed the door carefully and, Slughorn noted this with growing suspicions, locked the door and sealed it with just the slightest wave of his wand.
"Albus, if this is.." Slughorn began, but he could not finish his sentence before Dumbledore cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Relax, Horace. I am only here to talk."
Slughorn was considering to mention the last time Dumbledore had come 'only to talk', but he kept his silence. Without waiting for his employee to answer, the headmaster summoned a chair across that of Slughorn and with a wave of his wand moved the table a few meters to the side. Slughorn didn't move, but he did summon the courage to speak, "Honestly Albus. I don't believe you. Talking has never been something you did when we were alone. Tell me what you really want." He said, crossing his arms defiantly. Dumbledore sighed, but the slight smile on his lips and in his eyes spoke of anything but annoyance, and Slughorn snorted and shook his head. "Why the hell did you wait this long then? I was beginning to think that you had more eye for that Snape fellow than for me. Not that I would blame you for that.." He trailed off as he looked at Dumbledore's sky blue eyes. Oh how he'd missed those eyes staring at him, both in cold detachment when they spoke as teacher and headmaster, and in flaming passion when they made love in either of their offices.
Dumbledore smirked slyly as he sat down in the chair he had just summoned, not once breaking eye contact "I have been very busy, Horace. There has been little time for pleasurable company such as your own." his words were purposefully slow, dragging out the seconds to tease Slughorn, whom he knew was already impatient. And his gamble paid off. Slughorn gave an irritated sigh and resolutely rose from his chair, "No more talking now, Albus." he said, then promptly pressed his lips against Dumbledore's. This gentle touch turned into a heated battle for dominance as Dumbledore's tongue prodded at Slughorn's lower lip, demanding the access that was immediately granted. With a muffled moan of protest, Slughorn was pulled forward as Dumbledore sat down into his chair, forcing Slughorn down with him.
They only withdrew from the kiss when both succumbed to the need for air, but the few seconds were not spent in vain as Slughorn rearranged his own position so that he sat on Dumbledore's lap, his bent legs resting on either side of his lover. This was far more comfortable and would allow for greater freedom of movement later on. Dumbledore's arms were suddenly wrapped around Slughorn's waist and upper back and he was pulled back into a kiss that was more heated and rough that the first had been. This kiss awaited a primal stirring that he hadn't felt for what seemed like an eternity. Slughorn broke the kiss and leaned against Dumbledore, panting slightly. He began to feel severely overdressed and aptly stripped himself of his jacket and bowtie. Here, however, he stopped.
Dumbledore, taking notice of his lover's hesitation, looked at him with a warm glance, "Horace, we have both grown older. I will love and crave you no less than I did when we were young and virile." He said, his voice slightly hoarse from the primal urges that were being reawakened. When Slughorn still made no move to remove his shirt, Albus swiftly unbuttoned it and tossed it aside, letting his hands wander over Slughorn's upper body while the man attempted to hold back his moans. As the urgency of both men grew, so did their impatience, and all thoughts of taking the time to remove their clothing were dropped. Instead, they helped each other free only the most necessary areas and soon Slughorn was hovering just above Dumbledore's need.
Staring the object of his affections deeply in the eyes, Slughorn slowly lowered himself, feeling every inch of warmth piercing his insides. It had been so long, so very long, he had even doubted if he was still able to take in his lover, but it was no harder than it had been back when he was in his prime. They paused for a moment when Dumbledore was fully sheathed, his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed with a pleasure he had not felt for years. Slughorn gasped and mumbled the name of the only man he had ever loved. He slowly started moving, angling himself so that Dumbledore's length hit his prostate with every thrust. Soon, both men were moaning each other's names and panting with pleasure. Dumbledore moved his hips to meet Slughorn's, moving in unison as if by a common rythm. Neither had the stamina they had had when they were younger, and as their pace increased, their release drew nearer.
Suddenly, both men gripped each other tightly and moaned the names of each other loudly, thrown over the edge almost simultaneously. They came long and hard, finally finding the release they had been unable to reach without each other.
Slughorn collapsed, leaning against Dumbledore's chest without a word, his arms gripping his lover's waist tightly. Dumbledore returned the warm embrace, his good hand trailing lines on Slughorn's back.
"I'm sorry for waiting so long, my love.." he mumbled as they both drifted off in each other's safe embrace.
