Two endings because this is supposed to be a happy occasion but I live for angst.
@lifeofapottedplant happy birthday!
There are fairy tales not unlike this. Some experienced man and a young maiden. A man with power and a woman with beauty. He is strong, and she is fair.
Only Severus isn’t a woman. And he definitely isn’t fair. Or young, for that matter. 37 years old virgin. Christ’ sake.
Wow, he is really ruining his midnight wank with that train of thought.
With a heavy sigh, he closes his eyes again, conjuring the image of Albus’ hands. It shouldn’t be erotic. He shouldn’t wish for Albus to want him. To use him. Shouldn’t wish for Albus to claim him, greedily, to fuck him over his desk after every summon of the Dark Lord, to remind him who he belongs to. A whiny sound slips from between his lips.
Shit.
He forces his mouth closed again. Every sound he makes is too loud, and seems to reverberate in the room. Albus’ room. The rustling of the silky robes that cover him, the breaths rolling off his lips, the wet sound of his lubed up hand working his cock impatiently.
Almost there.
Fuck, this is taking long.
“Severus?”
He yelps, an embarrassing sound that he would be more concerned with if he weren’t naked, on Albus’ bed, covered in only Albus’ robes. For a second, which must have lased an eternity, nothing happens. The two of them just stare at one another. It takes a while before Severus notices that his hair is reddish, and his skin looks soft, and then it takes entirely too long for him to realise that Albus must have been taking the de-aging potion. Only Severus hasn’t been making it. A pang of something sharp and bitter runs through him at the thought.
“You were supposed to be gone.” His voice is surprisingly steady and low. Almost as if Albus is the one at fault here.
“I was gone,” Albus says, his voice equally steady. “And I will be gone again soon.”
Severus sniffs, trying to convince himself that the situation is merely inconvenient, and not painfully shameful. “I will leave, then.”
“You shall do no such thing.”
Before Severus can rise, Albus’ hand is firmly on his shoulder, pushing him down again.
“I have spent 4 days traveling back and forth over the world. I have spoken repeatedly to Ministry men and women who care not for truth. I have crossed paths with Death Eaters in places they should never have been. I have faced Grindelwald and my own past.” He pauses briefly, his finger brushing gently over Severus’ bare shoulder, his chest, his neck. “And tomorrow I may very well be dead.”
“Don’t,” Severus snaps, his eyes automatically searching for the blackened hand, before he sharply turns his head away.
“So forgive me, Severus, but tonight I will be selfish.”
He says nothing. Instead, he stubbornly stares at the wall opposite from Albus. And when the mattress dips, he says nothing either.
Fingertips trace over his chest, leisurely making their way down. Between them, there is only the thin fabric of Albus’ robes. The fingers run over his hips, his inner thighs, and Severus holds his breath when they run over his erection. He still half expects to be yelled at. To be called disgusting. To be sent away and asked to never return.
He does not expect the lips that suddenly brush over his nipple. A surprised little “oh” escapes him. Then there is the warm wetness of Albus’ mouth, the hint of teeth, and Severus’ hips jump without his permission. A blush creeps over him, and he almost wants to apologise, but Albus doesn’t remove his lips from Severus’ chest and so Severus can’t utter but a few tight-lipped “oh”s and “ah”s. Albus presses his palm against his dick, and Severus lets out a hard breath, his hips jerking up again, chasing the friction.
“What were you doing in my room?”
Albus’ voice is low and heavy, muffled against Severus’ chest. His breath hits Severus’ wet nipple, and a shiver runs down his spine. It takes a moment, or several moment, before Severus can collect his mind.
“I was- I- Nothing.” His voice his breathy and urgent. He closes his eyes, feelings Albus’ fingers curl around his throbbing cock, the silky robes still between them. He thinks he will say something stupid any moment, and he fears that he will not care. Not as long as that hand keeps rubbing him, slowly, teasingly.
“Were you thinking of me while doing nothing?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
He rolls his head back a little, gasping audibly when Albus leans in and kisses his neck. The warm wetness is odd on his neck, odder than on his nipples even. He can feel Albus’ tongue, and the soft suction where he knows it will leave a mark. Somehow, it’s far more intimate than anything that happened to his nipples, more intimate then the hand firmly squeezing his cock. A shudder runs through him so violent that he fears he will come then and there.
When Albus raises his head again, Severus feels unbearably exposed. His neck feels sore in an almost pleasant way, and when the cold air hits the wet patches of skin, he shivers. Albus’ nose brushes over his ear, and his voice is low and hot against his skin.
“How long have you wanted this? How long have you been waiting for me?”
Severus opens his mouth to reply, but the hand around his cock squeezes him hard, scattering all thoughts into pieces. He feels the moan that rolls over his tongue more than hearing it, and reaches blindly for Albus, clawing at his robes and holding on tightly as his orgasm begins to shudder through him.
For a moment, he stares unseeingly at the ceiling, mind and body glowing with bliss. He is breathing hard, and his eyelids flutter when a thumb brushes over his face. A little more clumsily than he’d have liked to, he pries his hands from Albus’ robes. Albus’ eyes follow his every move. The heat in his cheeks flares up again.
He tries to say something, feeling as though he ought to apologise, but he can’t force the words over his lips. Instead, he reaches out for Albus, his hand feeling strangely heavy as it presses against the erection through layers of clothes. When Albus moves, he flinches, certain he will be hit or shoved away. Instead, there are lips on his own, and it takes a stupidly long moment for him to realise he is being kissed. His hand rubs against the bulge, and Albus moans into the kiss.
And tomorrow I may very well be dead.
Severus’ hands move of their own accord, pulling Albus closer, his body arching up to meet him. The silky robes between them are pushed away, and after some fumbling, Albus’ robes open and slip down his shoulder. He is on top of Severus, who can’t help but grind himself against him, wanting to feel all of him. Sweat-slicked skin against skin.
Albus gently but urgently pushes apart his thighs. Severus lets him, and he blushes hotly as he spreads his legs more, feeling decadent just for how much he wants this. A hand touches his cock, which is still sore, but twitches willingly. The touch moves to his balls, and then behind them. A finger, wet and slippery, presses against him. He wonders whether he is about to get fucked with his own lube, and isn’t sure whether to feel relieved or embarrassed about having brought it with him. The thought quickly dissipates as the finger enters him.
Oh.
Albus has definitely done this before. He wonders, suddenly, who else was before him. How many have lied underneath Albus, writhing and moaning against him. Whether Albus has his eyes closed tightly because in his mind it is someone else’ body beneath him.
He runs his hands over Albus’ back, grabs him, digging his nails in and holding on tightly as Albus’ finger brushes over the right spot, again and again and again. A second finger slips in. He wants to say something. Hurry up or Fuck me or Please. All that comes out is a wretched moan.
Severus is half-hard again by the time Albus pulls out his fingers. Something large and blunt presses against his opening. Very briefly, he wishes he could see it. See Albus’ cock. Feel it with his hands and maybe with his mouth. He feels stupid, knowing he’s going to be fucked but never having even seen anything of it.
It’s big, he thinks, rather ineloquently. It’s- “Ah!” very big.
He writhes restlessly underneath Albus, digging his nails into his back to pull him closer, then shifting as if trying to escape. Then it rubs against that magic spot again, and Severus stills, breathing hard and waiting as Albus slowly thrusts into him, rubbing him just right from within. He closes his eyes. Forces them open. Closes them again. “Oh fuck,” he hears himself say. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.”
His cock is hard again, sliding deliciously against Albus’ belly. Every thrust becomes a little harder, a little more urgent, until Albus’ hands are pinning him down to keep him in place, and the bed begins to creak in earnest.
Albus’ mouth leaves sloppy kisses on his neck, his teeth gently nipping him. Muffled groans slip between his wet lips and Severus’ skin. Severus arches up, his hips twitching as his second orgasm overtakes him, a ragged moan shuddering out of him.
He is spent, impossibly relaxed while Albus continues to fuck him. His cock keeps rubbing that spot, and he breathes out hard, sore and aching in a way that never felt so good. Without thinking, he arches up again, curling his legs around Albus, who suddenly stills, thrusts again, once, twice, then stills again. Slowly, he collapses on top of him, resting his head in the nook between Severus’ neck and shoulder.
Severus lazily runs his fingers through Albus’ hair. It has never looked so unruly. He stares at the ceiling. It is as though he is so tired that he wide awake again. Tentatively, he touches Albus’ cheek, his shoulder, his back. Albus hums sleepily, as though he means to ask a question but can’t find the words. Carefully, Severus reaches for the bed sheets, pulling them closer with the tips of his fingers. One of the edges is underneath them.
He shifts slightly, slowly, holding his breath, until finally the sheets are pulled out.
Albus stirs, but doesn’t rouse, and Severus very slowly pulls the sheets up until they are just beneath Albus’ chin. He takes a deep breath, aware of the weight of another man on him. He doesn’t remember falling asleep.
It most likely morning, when he somewhat resurfaces from his sleep. He is in that pleasant haze between dreaming and waking up, slowly becoming aware of the too soft bed underneath him, the sheets that don’t smell of musty dungeons, and the warmth in the air that would have been chased away by the draught in his room. That, and the hand on his erection.
He hums questioningly as his eyelids flutter apart. Albus is propped up on one elbow, on his side, watching him, touching him. Severus blushes.
“Pervert.”
His voice is too hoarse and sleepy to give the word any strength. Albus grins, far too awake for this hour of the day.
“I suppose I shall not remind you of the state I found you in.”
Severus opens his mouth, feels his blush creeping down his neck, and closes it again. With movements that are too clumsy and sleepy for his liking, he turns to his side, with his back to Albus.
Albus is hot, his bare skin burning against Severus’ back. A wet kiss is placed on his neck, and he supposes it’s only natural that he arches his back, feeling Albus’ firm cock against his bum. He is pushed down on his belly, and raises his hips eagerly as Albus’ finger works his way in. It’s quick this time. Or maybe he is too sleepy to keep up. He tenses for a moment when the blunt tip of Albus’ cock eases it’s way in. Then Albus’ hand reaches around and rubs his dick until it’s dripping, and before he knows it Albus is deep inside him, thrusting slowly, and Severus moaning into his pillow, arching his back obscenely like some randy cat.
Albus holds still for a moment. There is a kiss between his shoulder blades, almost chaste. Then Severus feels his hand going through his hair, grabbing a fistful of it, and Severus gasps and he thinks he begs “Please” but he isn’t sure and he can’t think because Albus is fucking him hard and thoughts and words are rattled loose in his head.
He is moaning, loudly, his hips rising to meet every thrust. Albus’ fingers are digging into his hips hard enough to leave bruises. Then he pulls Severus close, holding him tightly through his orgasm. Severus rolls his hips, depserately grinding against him, and Albus makes a chocked sound.
He pulls out, and Severus makes a whiny sound that he doesn’t have time to be embarrassed about because he is flipped over. Then Albus is between is legs again, and Severus catches a glimpse of his cock, wet and softening. The sight distracts him and he has no time to brace himself when Albus bends down and his mouth is around Severus’ cock. Warm wet tight mouth. Severus screams. Shudders. Comes so hard he sees stars.
Second Ending.
Severus lazily runs his fingers through Albus’ hair. It has never looked so unruly. He stares at the ceiling. It is as though he is so tired that he wide awake again. Tentatively, he touches Albus’ cheek, his shoulder, his back. Albus hums sleepily, as though he means to ask a question but can’t find the words. Carefully, Severus reaches for the bed sheets, pulling them closer with the tips of his fingers. One of the edges is underneath them.
He yanks them out.
Albus stirs, and his voice is so soft and sleepy that Severus almost doesn’t understand him.
“Gellert?”
He is holding the covers over them, unable to put them down or throw them aside. His heart is beating very fast suddenly. He waits. Listens closely. No other sound comes from Albus, but the slow, even breaths of sleep. His hands shake just a little as he slowly puts the sheets down, as he pulls them up until they’re just beneath Albus’ chin. He spends the night watching the ceiling. He doesn’t move, barely even breathes. It feels not unlike sleep paralysis. Only it lasts, and it lasts, and the monster on his chest stays quiet all night long.
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