Entry tags:

*fic, 2008-03, author: ceria, character: gilderoy, character: kingsley, theme: corsets

Fic: A Deceptive Play (Kingsley/Gilderoy, R)
Title: A Deceptive Play
Author: ceria
Characters: Kingsley Shacklebolt / Gilderoy Lockhart
Rating: R
Warnings: n/a
Themes/kinks chosen: corsets
Word Count: about 2,800
Summary: An Auror hunting for a rogue wizard
Author's notes: Thank you, Elf, for the beta and everything else that goes with that.

Auror Shacklebolt,

We have three reports of a rogue man in Hungary who is confusing Muggles and wizards alike. We believe he's a wizard altering memories. I've sent two hit wizards who have both returned physically sound and mentally intact, even if they can't recall their mission.

Good hunting.

M. Bagnold
Minister of Magic

* * *
After a week spent chasing what amounted to needles in a haystack (to steal a Muggle phrase), Kingsley stopped in a local pub for a whiskey. While he loved his job, sometimes he despised the work. Spending hours talking to witnesses, both Wizard and Muggle, seemed like such a waste. So far most of them couldn't remember anything helpful. At the fifth house, the elderly neighbor had seen a man with pretty, blond hair knocking on the neighbor's door. At the tenth stop, a little girl with pigtails and a missing tooth remembered a man with a friendly smile briefly playing a game on the pavement with her. Those were the only two with any recollection of a stranger on their quiet street.

But the people he'd been sent to actually speak to, just like the hit wizards back at the Ministry, had no recollection of the events from four days ago. Yet his job was to find answers, and Kingsley continued to patiently knock on doors, visiting with various men and women. Even though his favourite was still Mrs Bodor who insisted on two cups of tea while searching through three stuffed and extremely unorganized photo albums while she located the picture of the man Kingsley "greatly resembled."

Hell, he deserved a drink after this week and early Friday evening, shaking the raindrops that tickled as they rolled down his head, he stepped through the door of a local pub. Kingsley nodded at the barkeep and strolled past the empty seats to take a table in the far corner.

Much like the brightly coloured trams he used to get around the city, someone had painted the interior of the pub in hues of sky blue and soft violet. Not shades he would expect to like, yet the brightness of the room quickly made him forget the dreariness of the drizzle outside. Maybe that had been their goal when they'd painted it. Kingsley raised his glass to salute the green butterflies decorating the mural surrounding him. If this place had been the Leaky Cauldron, or a wizard's pub, they would have been moving. The stationary butterflies made Kingsley wish for home.

Not even the alcohol relieved the tenseness between his shoulders, the pinched frustration that traveled alongside the fact he was unable to get a solid lead from anyone concerning the wizard he sought. The whiskey helped with the tension, but wasn't what Kingsley wanted. Too bad there wasn't a club about. Or if there was, he wasn't adept enough with his limited Hungarian to translate the various flyers tacked onto billboards in the city. Unfortunately, even the young woman serving him, probably in her late twenties, didn't appeal either. Even though she hovered near his side as he finished each alternating whiskey and glass of water. He grinned at her but even her easy smile wasn't enough to get him to ask for more.

The door opened once again and Kingsley, by habit, glanced up to note who was entering, joining himself and the ten other people already seated throughout the pub. The cape and cowl disguised the man - or possibly a woman because he couldn't immediately tell by the way they walked - and Kingsley nursed his water, idly staring until he could see for sure.

They sat at the bar, perched on the edge of a stool, ankles crossed and feet tucked demurely beneath. Fingernails, painted the same lavender as the walls, pulled back the black cowl, revealing shoulder length, blond curly hair.

Dismissing her as he did the server, because Kingsley wasn't in the mood for a woman tonight, he turned back to the unopened menu he'd set on the corner of the table and read it, wondering just what Pörkölt was and if it would taste good.

He could always ask the waitress and Kingsley glanced up to search for her the very moment someone laughed. Some sounds a man can remember forever, and that cackle was one of them. It reminded him of a cross between a parrot and a hyena - not a combination many people would enjoy. He surely didn't, but Kingsley grinned anyway, remembering the exact number of years (six) since he'd last heard that sound.

Twisting so his legs were free from the table, Kingsley stood, carrying the glass of water by his fingertips and walked to the bar. "You're a long way from Scotland, darling," he said, humor evident in his voice and Gilderoy Lockhart pushed himself round, flashing his brilliant smile at Kingsley.

"Well here's a man I haven't seen in far too long," he said, resting his lacquered hand against Kingsley's chest. He'd always been a pretty, delicate man and with his hair curled and the whisper of makeup across his face; briefly, Kingsley noted that his youngest sister could learn a trick or two from Lockhart about applying cosmetics. And he knew he had found exactly what he needed tonight. Gilderoy might be a prettier man than a woman but who was Kingsley to complain if Lockhart chose to wear… whatever was beneath that cape to compliment the polish and makeup.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"Certainly, Kingsley," Gilderoy said, somehow managing to make those two words sound like a promise. It was a shame Kingsley still needed to eat. He held his arm out, waiting for Gilderoy to take it and join him at the table.

His drinks had been refilled, and the observant woman who was waiting on him had brought whatever Lockhart was drinking as well. Service like that was rare and Kingsley decided to leave her extra forint.

"Do we have to stay?" Gilderoy asked, pressing his body against Kingsley's side.

Did they? It would be just as easy to order dinner in the hotel as it would here at the pub. Turning around he motioned her to come closer and asked for the bill. Though it was distracting to watch her blush as Gilderoy – who always wanted more attention – pressed against Kingsley's back, one arm straying around his waist to fondle the buttons on Kingsley's shirt.

Even so, Kingsley didn't try and dislodge him, he rather liked the feeling of Gilderoy pressed against his bum. And the embarrassed girl was more entertaining than disturbing. So what if she was offended, Kingsley wasn't acting lewdly enough to create a scene, and while he was in Hungary on work, he wasn't working tonight.

She hurried away and Kingsley leaned against a wide pole near his table, shifting his weight, which let him move his hips, rubbing against Lockhart.

"Subtle, Kingsley," Gilderoy said, laughter evident in his voice as Kingsley expected it to be. That smooth tone made Kingsley want to bend him over the table right there and push aside the cloak and clothes. With a small sigh, Kingsley clenched his fist; the only sign of his impatience to remind himself that the Ministry would frown upon such behaviour. He wasn't some young pup who needed sex bad enough to jeopardise his career. She returned quickly enough with the bill and he handed her the money. Except he wasn't sure he could move at that moment, not when Gilderoy had one finger inside his shirt, a long fingernail scraping across his stomach.

"Are you ready?" Kingsley asked, tilting his head.

He laughed, not that obnoxious hyena laugh, but low and quiet. Kingsley shivered.

Letting go, Gilderoy walked out of the pub, his head held high, his shoulders thrown back. Nothing like a little public foreplay to entertain. Grinning and unable to hide it, Kingsley closed his hand around the receipt and followed him.

Gilderoy was right outside and Kingsley didn't bother to ask as Lockhart wrapped his arms around him. He Apparated them directly to his room, drawing Gilderoy immediately into a kiss, the bill and money fluttering to the floor, forgotten. Such soft lips. Kingsley had forgotten over the years how soft Lockhart's hair was as he curled his fingers through the curls.

"Show me what you're wearing," Kingsley demanded, the corner of his lips curling up as Gilderoy sighed against his chin. He was curious as to what he'd see beneath the cloak.

Gilderoy's smile was as bright as sunlight reflecting off snow and absently Kingsley wondered what spell made Lockhart's teeth that white. He folded his arms across his chest to watch the man strip. Even during their years at Hogwarts, Gilderoy had enjoyed the attention. Kingsley remembered that well enough to know all he had to do was watch attentively.

The bright fingernails undid one button at a time, beginning at the neck, revealing perfectly tanned skin. As Lockhart moved lower, Kingsley smiled, a slow lazy thing that must have looked nice because Gilderoy whimpered. "The buttons," Kingsley reminded him as Lockhart paused.

Whatever he wore, Gilderoy kept his cloak shut even though Kingsley caught glimpses of bright colours, so that it wasn't revealed until the end. Rotating his shoulders, Lockhart let the front of his cloak go, falling to the sides to be shrugged off his shoulders. Kingsley had looked away briefly, distracting himself. But his eyes drawn back by Gilderoy's flourish and his breath caught in this throat.

"Hello there," Kingsley said, licking his lips at the outfit beneath. Lockhart wore a tight red and purple corset, his thin body perfectly outlined, his not-quite-flat breasts pushed up, the pink areolas peeking over the top of the corset. Who could resist such a pretty sight? Kingsley leaned over, tongue out, to lick one. Gilderoy always had soft skin. His nipple hardened immediately, making Kingsley grin. He moved, sucking the other in his mouth and Gilderoy gasped. Kingsley didn't stop quickly, he stayed bent over, suckling on Lockhart's chest, his tongue flickering across the bud of tender skin until Gilderoy began to tremble.

"Turn around," Kingsley mumbled, and smiled when Lockhart complied so quickly. Oh yes, the man took care of himself, as evident by the tight black trousers he wore with the corset. Who could resist such a fine arse? Kingsley surely couldn't, and rested his palm against the curve of Lockhart's buttocks. "Hands on the desk," he said softly, knowing Gilderoy would comply.

Magic was often wasted on such things, but Kingsley wasn't up for waiting today. He removed Gilderoy's trousers with a flick of his wand and rubbed his fingers between Lockhart's arse, up and down the crack, humming in appreciation at how toned his muscles were. "Very nice."

Lockhart whimpered, twisting his body so he could see Kingsley. Typical of him. He probably got off more on the idea that someone wanted him, than the actual act of sex. "You can watch in the mirror," Kingsley said. He backed away, looking for his suitcase and pulled a container of lube out of a pocket. Turning around, all he could do was admire the view of Lockhart, body bent over, forearms resting on the desk, feet still in boots, and bare legs spread wide. It was a fine sight and Kingsley carefully removed his clothes, setting them on the edge of the bed.

The lube was cold and Kingsley rubbed it slowly, warming it up, the liquid squishing between his fingers and he let it dribble across Lockhart's buttocks, watching the liquid run over the hairless curves. Leave it to Gilderoy to shave every part of his body.

"I'm going to fuck you," Kingsley said, grinning as Gilderoy whimpered again. He had forgotten how quiet Lockhart usually was but Kingsley didn't care at the moment. The lube finally warm, he rubbed his fingers against Gilderoy's backside, pushing one inside and twisting it.

"You're still tight," Kingsley said, inserting a second finger. It had been a long time since he'd done this with a man and how convenient was it that Gilderoy appeared here, just as Kingsley had been thinking he needed this.

But the expanse of tan skin (with no defining lines) distracted him from coincidences. The thought of burying his cock in that tight area was Kingsley's only focus right then. He didn't want to wait and he dribbled more lube over the tip of his dick. With hands on Gilderoy's back, Kingsley pushed inside the muscle with a groan, sliding inside leisurely, listening to Lockhart whimper in his typical high-pitched tone. He relished in the tightness, the way he had to unhurriedly force himself past it, the slight pinch around his cock as he twitched, going deeper with each slow thrust.

A quick look in the mirror revealed that Gilderoy wasn't hurting, his smile was perfect and his eyes were fluttering, slowly settling for closed. Another push, another moment to wait and soon enough Kingsley was buried inside him. Eventually he'd find that spot to rub, but for now, Kingsley looked down, watching his cock slide in and out, gliding smoothly from the lube. As soon as Gilderoy loosened, Kingsley slid his hands through the laces of the corset. He wiggled his hands through the red and purple laces, watching the strings slide back and forth across his skin as he moved in and out. The little red and purple frills on the corset tickled the palm of his hands and Kingsley smiled.

Too soon, Gilderoy was keening, his painted fingernails white around the edges as he gripped the desk. Kingsley sped up, sliding faster inside that tight hole. The material no longer tickled his fingers, but he still couldn't look away. The red and purple laces caught on his skin, leaving brief, faint marks as it moved around the back of his hands and Kingsley focused on that, trying to delay his orgasm.

Except all his frustration from the mission was fading away and he wasn't able to channel that anger while buried inside Lockhart. With a loud groan, Kingsley came, leaning forward to put most of his weight on one arm. He freed his other hand and reached around while he still shuddered inside Gilderoy. Pushing his partially hard cock in as deep as possible, he helped Gilderoy with a dry hand until Lockhart was crying out with release.

One deep, shuddering breath later, and Kingsley moved backwards, reaching for his wand to cast Scourgify.

"I can do that," Gilderoy said as he stood up and turned around. He looked even lovelier with his mussed hair and faded eye shadow that was dripping in narrow purple trails down the corners of his eyes; his corset in disarray, the strings loose and hanging down, the material bunched up and even torn in one spot. Kingsley had to admit he loved the look of a well-fucked man.

Gilderoy handed Kingsley a glass of water, waving his wand over it. "I spelled it cold for you."

Nodding his thanks, Kingsley took it, noting sadly that Gilderoy was already reaching for his trousers. It would be a shame to cover up that fine body. He might not be as muscular as Kingsley (which made sense considering he apparently tried to pass for a bird from time to time) but he was still well toned.

It took Kingsley all of ten seconds after finishing that glass of water to recongise something was wrong. "Gilderoy, did you lace this with Veritaserum?"

"Why do you think, Auror Shacklebolt?"

Oh no. "You're the rogue wizard I'm looking for." Why hadn't that crossed his mind before? No wonder Gilderoy was eager to tease him and leave the pub. How embarrassing to fall for such an obvious ploy.

He closed his eyes, trying to remember anything possible about how to challenge the effects of Veritaserum. What was it Moody usually told them? Oh. Yes. Don't put yourself into a situation where you might drink it. Well, Kingsley had bullocksed that one up very well tonight.

"Who did I miss, Kingsley? What people remembered seeing an attractive, blonde man?"

Biting his tongue didn't prevent him from answering that question. Dutifully, Kingsley named the two people he'd found during the week who gave him clues. He really loathed Veritaserum and promptly told Gilderoy that.

"It won't matter because you won't remember this anyway."

"How in the world do you except that arrange that?" Kingsley asked, sarcasm apparent in his voice.

"Honestly? Very simply," Gilderoy said, pointing his wand at him…

~ *~

The trip to Hungary had taken eight days in the end, including travel. Just over a week spent alone eating pörkölt in his room at night and talking to witnesses during the day who remembered nothing helpful. The worst part, Kingsley thought, was filing the five sets of parchment – in triplicate - that explained the reasoning he found no proof of any rogue wizard operating in Hungary.