InsaneJournal

It was remarkable, it really was, how easily they had slipped back into their usual habits, their usual behaviours, even after the past two weeks.  Albus's bed was as comfortable to Gellert as his own, the sound of water running as Albus took a shower seeming almost hypnotically mundane.  All of Gellert's things were still here--Albus had moved none of them, not even a shirt that Gellert had left slung over the back of his desk chair no more than three hours before he had left.  Gellert's books were still stacked alongside Albus's on the shelves, his notes still scattered through the drawer, his equations on the wall and the Hallows symbol still burnt into the floor.  Had Albus known that he would eventually come back, or had he simply been unable to remove Gellert's presence from his room out of fear of permanence?  Each option seemed equally likely.  Perhaps, then, it was a bit of both.

Gellert did not bother to make the bed.  Not yet, anyway.  He had applied the vague effort of charming on a shirt and trousers, but even this was half-hearted, his shirt left untucked and mostly unbuttoned, his trousers still loose in the waist from the weight Gellert had lost.  He lounged on the bed, half-curled up in the sheets, flipping through another Muggle novel--Great Expectations.  He had been in the process of reading it before the fight, but he could not quite lose himself in its pages.  Gellert had never had any particular fondness for Dickens in the first place (actually, his sentiments could perhaps best be described as loathing), but it was especially difficult to suffer through it this morning.  Gellert kept finding himself distracted by half-formed thoughts as to what he might make Albus for breakfast (when he finally emerged from that shower) and plans for the remainder of the day.  Gellert had to wonder why he even bothered, really.  No one was forcing him to read books he hated.  It just felt like a loose end--one that must be tied up before he could truly reintegrate himself into Albus's life.

Maybe, Gellert thought as he flipped to the next page in the book, having barely processed the words on the one just before it, maybe he should just join Albus in that shower.  It did seem as though he had been in there for hours already. Though--Gellert cast a quick tempus charm--blazes, had it only been ten minutes?  Surely not.  Surely Dickens was not that much of a bore.  He forced himself to keep reading, one word at a time, then one sentence at a time.  Maybe he should charm the hot water away.  He could always bring it back in time for his own shower.

Aberforth had been keeping a close eye on his brother these past few days. After what March had told him, his concern for Albus was beginning to border on overwhelmingly overprotective. He hoped Albus didn't mind him constantly checking in, but even if he did Aberforth would keep it up. He was his brother. That was what brothers did, right? If it was Ariana he would already be sleeping on the floor of her bedroom but he definitely didn't think Albus would appreciate that. No. Popping over was quite alright, and since it was often unannounced, if anything was wrong - he could help him. Even if Albus wanted to cover it up and not worry Aberforth, he wanted to help. Needed to help. Albus had to be alright.

Today was no different. It wasn't long after he woke up that he decided to go check in on his brother, barely even knocking on the door when he got there. When Albus didn't immediately answer he let himself in. Which, again, he felt was his right as his brother. Not March's. He should have been there to help Albus that night, not her. He appreciated it and resented it all at the same time. Hearing the shower running in his brothers room, he climbed the stairs not bothering to look up as he opened his brother's door. He was too busy unwinding his scarf and heading to knock on the bathroom door to let Albus know he was here. Of course, when he shrugged out of his jacket and turned to hang in on one of the chairs he spotted Gellert. His reaction, had he not been so terrified, was actually rather comical. His wide blue eyes grew even wider, stumbling back a few steps until he hit into the wall which caused him to wince. His mind couldn't make sense of what Gellert was doing here even though it was obvious. He just hadn't been expecting it. "Wha--" it was the only thing he could make out.

Aberforth's entrance proving a far more interesting distraction than Dickens, Gellert closed the book and tossed it onto the floor, rolling over from his stomach to instead lean back against the headboard.  "Good morning, Aberforth," he said, his tone nothing if not pleasant.  He sank down into the pillows, his gaze seizing upon the other man, eyes narrowed in a manner that seemed to recall predation.  Any boredom was instantly vanished and Gellert was alert, focused, excited anticipation sparking along every nerve fiber underneath his skin. 

If it truly had only been ten minutes, as the tempus charm had suggested, he had another ten or twenty minutes before he could expect to see Albus's reappearance.  Plenty of time to release some of this growing energy.  So Gellert stretched his arms out, the very picture of lazy indulgence, the motion drawing the fabric of his shirt aside enough to reveal the small red bite marks Albus had left along his collarbone that morning.

Aberforth didn't reply. He couldn't reply. His eyes darted to the bathroom door where he could still hear the shower running. He was tempted to run over and start banging on the door, but he held back in favor of remaining pressed against the wall. When his eyes turned back to the blond though, his jaw clenched. He saw the small marks and he felt sick. Hands curling into fists, he took a sharp breath, digging his nails into his palms as he kept a steady gaze on the other.

"You're back." he finally replied, voice tight, body stiff. He really should have called ahead.

Gellert's smile was slow, serpentine.  "Of course I'm back, darling," he said, head tilting to one side.  "I've been back all night, in fact.  I suppose I ought to have known that you would be stopping by here sooner or later."  He paused, gaze sliding away from Aberforth to focus on the small threads he was picking free from the bedsheets, and then up once more. "It's sweet, how much you care for your brother.  It is." 

And in that moment, the bedroom door fell closed, blocking Aberforth from getting into the hallway, getting to the bathroom.  Gellert partitioned off a little of his mind to pay attention solely to the sound of water falling in the shower, alert for the moment that it would shut off.  And then he lifted a hand toward Aberforth and beckoned for him to approach, to join him on the bed. "Come here," he said.  His voice was quiet and low, a little edged from the slightly increased amount of his accent that Gellert allowed to infiltrate its pitch.

Gellert's smile - his voice - everything about him caused goosebumps to rise on his skin. He didn't want to have to see or hear the other man. He had been hoping that his brother and Gellert wouldn't make up, despite his reassurances to Albus. He should have known their spat wouldn't last though. He just figured that if and when they made up Albus would be the one to tell him. He didn't expect that Gellert would just pop back up. Of course, thinking back on it now, that seemed to be a remarkable skill of his. He should have foreseen this. Albus was here though, he'd be fine. His eyes returned to the bathroom door once more before the sound of the other shutting startled him.

Looking back at Gellert, he sucked in a sharp breath. He wanted to say no, he wanted to run, but he couldn't. What could Gellert want here though? There was nothing he could think of, especially with his brother so close. Carefully edging closer to the bed, he kept his eyes on Gellert to make sure he didn't make any sudden movements. "Why?" he was already moving, just like he wanted, but he had to ask. He drew closer to the side of the bed Gellert was laying on, his fear evident as he came to a stop and waited for Gellert to continue. He couldn't possibly hurt him terribly. Albus would notice. He'd notice.

Gellert laughed, the sound sharp and scornful as it split through the still morning air.  "Why?  Because I want you to, Aberforth.  Because I told you to.  You need know no more than that."  He reached out and patted the bed next to him, a single brow lifting. 

It was not that Gellert had given up on trying to fight these urges.  Such desires to kill and maim and traumatise.  It was that he never saw any point in fighting them in the first place.  No purpose in denying himself something he so desperately wanted.  That release.  An outlet, for the insatiable hunger that seemed to build within him with the passage of hours.  Two weeks of venting his anger on creatures such as Barty Crouch had done little to assuage it except for temporarily. 

Aberforth despised being the subject to Gellert's whims. He had fought so hard against them and yet here he was - putting up no struggle at all. Remaining stoic in the face of his laughter, he watched as Gellert patted the bed beside him, eyes raising to meet the others face as a wave of panic came over him. For a moment he did nothing, giving him a desperate searching look before sucking in a sharp breath. He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came. Trying to keep his eyes on the other, he slowly sat down at the very edge of the bed. Unconsciously he began nervously gnawing on his lower lip. Why did Albus have to take such long showers? Was it because his hair was so ridiculously long that it probably took an hour in and of itself to wash? He really should cut it. Really. Because then he'd be here right now and Aberforth would be fine.

Gellert's smile widened when Aberforth obeyed, the mattress dipping to accommodate his weight.  "Good," he said, his tone very much like that of a master giving a dog approval for performing a new trick.  "Very good.  Thank you, Aberforth."  And then Gellert was crawling across the bed toward him, fingers catching the curve of his jaw and turning his head so that they were face to face.  He paused for a moment, simply watching him, letting the tips of their noses brush--before finally closing the distance.  Gellert pressed their lips together in a kiss that was astonishingly soft and gentle, cradling Aberforth's head in his hands, fingers threading through his hair.

Aberforth's heartbeat picked up, beginning to race as Gellert drew closer. He could feel the bed shifting with the other man's weight, his lips pursing together as he watched him nervously. His palms were beginning sweat now and he was trying to concentrate on his breathing--and the fact that Albus was just feet away. He said nothing, shudddering when he felt Gellert's fingers curve around his jaw to direct his gaze towards him. He wished he wasn't, but he was so used to this.  He could almost anticipate what was coming next even though it made him want to throw up or cry out, but he didn't. He couldn't. "Please." he asked in a harsh whisper, feeling pathetic for even trying as Gellert's nose brushed against his. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to will it away, but he failed. As soon as he had let his guard down, Gellert closed the distance between them completely. The brush of his lips was gentle at first, his hands almost soothing, but Aberforth didn't respond because he knew who it was. He didn't understand why he insisted doing this. Sometimes it was worse than the torture. Bringing a hand up, he rested it flat against Gellert's chest and gave him a shove, trying to get him to stop. "G'off" he mumbled against the other's lips, pulling back with a gasp. "Stop."

But Aberforth was not able to pull back very far before Gellert's fingers were digging into the back of his neck, holding him steady, refusing to let him retreat.  If there was indeed a reason that Gellert did this--and there was, of course, for Gellert had a reason (no matter how twisted) for everything--it was because of how much it seemed to bother Aberforth.  How this, more than anything, could reach down into his core and tear him apart.  The unexpected gentleness, the soft yet cruel echoes of the way that Gellert touched Albus, and Albus touched him. 

"No," Gellert said, smirking as he dragged Aberforth forward again, the kiss more forceful this time, more demanding.  Aberforth may have been stronger than Gellert physically, but the layer of magic that Gellert wove behind him refused to allow him any leave to withdraw.  A new wave of power pushed Aberforth forward, into Gellert, whose hands were finding their way to Aberforth's waist--an embrace more cold than compassionate.

Aberforth let out a hiss of pain, wincing at the feel of Gellert's fingers digging into the sensitive skin of his neck. He tried to pull back, but the more he struggled the harder it became. The more effort he put behind it, the less affective it seemed to be. Keeping his hand on Gellert's chest in an effort to keep some distance between them, he tried to turn away as the other man leaned in once more. He couldn't take his smirk--his knowing smirk--like every protest he presented to Gelllert with was entirely useless. He knew in the back of his mind that it was, but it didn't stop him from trying. Pressing his lips together in an effort to keep this chaste, he dug his nails into Gellert's chest hoping the pain would cause him to back off so Aberforth could give a shout to Albus. Just to let him know he was here. Just to get him to hurry up.

The sudden motion that pulled him forward though, threw him off and had his hand trapped between their bodies. He let out a disgusted noise as he felt the other man's hands on his waist, eyes shut tight as he tried to fight him off.--He wasn't here. He wasn't here. His mind was insistent on that, but the sensations of everything else overpowered his will so he began to take a new tactic. His mind propelled forward just as his hands scrabbled to pry him off. All he could think to do was imagine that the lips against his, the hands on his waist, belonged to someone else. March. Her face was the first thing that came to mind so he settled on her. March with her blond hair, and her soft hands, and her kind smile--he focused on her and everything that made her her instead of Gellert. It made it easier to deal with though it didn't stop him from struggling.

The way that Aberforth struggled only made this all so much more entertaining.  It was not as though there was enough time to cause Aberforth any true, lasting harm--but that was never Gellert's intent, anyway.  Well.  Not that sort of harm.  (It would be too easy, it really would, and Gellert always preferred a challenge.)  But he could make Aberforth fear it.  Make him think that Gellert really would go that far. 

The shower was still running so Gellert drew his wand, pressing the tip into Aberforth's neck as he broke the kiss long enough to whisper, "Imperio." 

The curse was mild.  Weak.  It had to be--with Albus only a few metres away, anything too strong would send an alarm shooting through the blood magic bind that connected them.  But with a curse this moderate, Gellert could conceal its identity.  Let Albus think it was a simple levitation charm, even.  It was not as though Aberforth was strong enough to fight him, even with a spell this gentle.  Gellert felt Aberforth's consciousness come safely under his control, felt his struggles die at Gellert's silent command.  And he ordered Aberforth to take over the lead, to kiss him once more--to push him down against the bed and smooth his hands down Gellert's chest.

Relief washed over him as Gellert pulled away, gasping for air just before the wand was pressed against his throat. "No." he rasped, giving Gellert one final shove before his thoughts slipped away. His relief quickly gave way to peace of mind. The hand that he had used to hold Gellert back was pushing him down on the bed but it wasn't in an effort to get him away anymore.  Instead it was in an effort to get closer. Pressing his hand flat against the other's chest, he smoothed in down, licking his lips before his blank, blue eyes returned to lock with Gellerts--waiting. No thoughts of his own save what Gellert gave him--that and his own small whispering voice in the back of his mind that was being smothered by the spell.

Leaning over him, he resumed kissing Gellert though this time it didn't lack any enthusiasm. His hands began unbuttoning his shirt in an effort to get closer. His hunger became apparent as his tongue traced along Gellert's lower lip, parting them in order to taste the other man and groaning between the combination of his lips and the bare skin beneath his hand.

Gellert did not try to silence the chuckle that escape his lips, falling muted against Aberforth's own as he kissed him, hands sliding down warm skin, Gellert's own fingers untucking Aberforth's shirt to graze along the small of his back.  He directed Aberforth's lips down, to glance over the bite Albus had left just over Gellert's heart--made Aberforth's hands gently trace the long scratches left along Gellert's sides.  And then Aberforth was kissing his throat, Gellert's head tilting back, eyes closed, one leg curling around Aberforth's waist and drawing him closer, pressing his hips up to meet the other's. 

Aberforth sucked in a sharp breath when Gellert's hands grazed along his lower back. His entire body pressing further down into Gellert's in response as his lips trailed lower. Bringing a hand up, he smoothed it down his side, lightly scratching his skin as he went. Meeting the resistance of his trousers eventually, he left his hand on his hip as his lips continued to move. Following the line up to Gellerts' neck, he had to paused to take a shuddering breath and lett out a soft moan against Gellerts ear when the other arched into him. Gripping his hip tighter, he rolled his hips forward, pressing his face into the others neck when he wrapped a leg around him.

There were times when Albus believed he did, in fact, have entirely too-long hair. Of course there were charms and spells that worked in a pinch, and Albus suspected the uniquely clean feeling that came from actually showering was purely psychological, but he couldn't bring himself to mind overly much. It was a rather pleasant sort of ritual. When in a particularly indulgent mood, Albus was quite capable of lingering a bathtub for an hour or so. He did seem to enjoy just being surrounded by water. Or, perhaps Albus was merely too fond of the jasmine and honey scented shampoo. Shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower, Albus summoned a towel to his hand. Once it was secured around his waist his fingers set to the task of combing through his water-curled hair. His thoughts hummed idly, their habits active but nondescript, relegated to dull background noise in light of the previous evening's and morning's events.

The second the water shut off, Gellert's senses were sending warning bells through his mind, drawing him out of the physicality of it, out of the reverie, and landing him strictly back in the present.  He let the kiss linger for a few more seconds before finally pushing Aberforth back, directing him through the Imperius to retreat to the other side of the bed.  The buttons of Gellert's shirt quickly redid themselves--almost all of them, this time--and the bedroom door swung open once more.  In the few seconds that Gellert knew he had left before Albus arrived, he debated removing the curse, but decided against it.  It was mild enough that Albus would not notice it if he hadn't already, and Gellert could use its influence even now.  Even in front of Albus.  Have Aberforth say to Albus's face all of the things Gellert told him that he had said in private.  Ruin whatever hold Aberforth still had over his brother. 

Unlike Gellert, Aberforth remained blissfully unaware of everything that was going on around him as well as everything that he was doing. He just knew that it felt good and he wanted more--wanted more until he didn't. Now he wanted to be on the other side of the bed. As soon as he felt Gellert's hand pushing him back he was persuaded to move, getting off from the other man and crawling over to rest against the headboard . He could feel a niggling thought lingering in the back of his mind, but he remained unaware of it for now. Right now, the only thing he could see was what was right in front of him--the door swinging open once more and that was it.

A quick catalogue of Albus's condition revealed nothing that required actual attention. His kiss-swollen lips would calm on their own. The marks along his neck and sternum were barely even noticeable to Albus, next to the symbol of the Hallows that Gellert had, at some point, etched into his chest. For just a moment he considered the red scrapes at his neck. Nothing else, certainly not the scratches along his back and shoulder, would be visible once he was dressed. And the markings on his neck he would heal later, before he left the house. For the moment, he left them all, each of them visual, detectable comforts as indicators of Gellert's return. Brushing the damp curtain of his hair over his shoulder, Albus reached for the door. The absolute last thing he had been expecting to find on the other side was his brother. Colour drained entirely from Albus's face as his thoughts fired with a violent speed, trying to understand why Aberforth was here, why he was sitting on Albus's terribly unmade bed, and why - why - hadn't Albus thought to get dressed before coming out of the bathroom.

By the time Albus returned, Gellert was leaning back against the headboard once more, book in hand, finger slipped between the pages as if marking his spot.  He smiled the moment Albus appeared in the doorway, letting his eyes reveal a degree of relief--of silent gratitude for Albus interrupting whatever conversation he'd been having with his brother.  And as for Aberforth--Gellert made sure he kept his head down, his gaze averted from Albus.  Even weak as the curse was, there was no telling how much of that characteristic blankness would show in Aberforth's eyes.  And Albus would recognise it.  Of course he would.  Gellert was putting all of his energy at the moment into both maintaining the curse and concealing it from Albus.  It was only due to his great experience that he was able to keep the strain of it from showing on his face. 

"Aberforth came by to see you," Gellert said, his voice cool and mellow.  Internally, he was already urging Aberforth toward the words he needed him to say.  The tone of voice in which he needed him to say them.

Aberforth remained in the same empty plane of thought until it began to push him to say things--things that would hurt his brother--things that weren't true. Finally waking up to what was going on, he mentally pushed back causing him to physically tip over as soon as Gellert had finished addressing his brother. Falling off the bed, a mess of awkward limbs, he hit his head on the side table and let out a startled noise. Both because he was finally coming to and because that had really hurt. Reaching a hand up to press against his head, he tried to figure out if he was hurt and then where he was. It all came back to him in a flash, the throbbing of his newly injured head not helping matters at all. All the blood drained from his face as he remained leaning against the side table, not looking up yet as his fingers curled into his hair. Why him? Why him? Why him?

Gellert didn't have siblings. That was the only reason, Albus was sure, that Gellert could sound so very at ease. Not that Gellert truly seemed at ease. But this, this was why there were rules and custom and etiquette: to avoid moments where one stood naked but for a towel to find both brother and lover so very close at hand. It wasn't that Albus was ashamed of himself, or of his feelings for Gellert, or of the things they did together, but his brother absolutely did not need to know of them. However understanding and supportive Aberforth may have been, Albus couldn't now help wondering if that had only been possible because Aberforth had hoped or expected that Albus and Gellert would never reconcile. And from the way Aberforth literally fell off the bed- and gods below but it just seem so unseemly for Aberforth to be sitting on Albus's bed when less than half an hour before- There was a soft crack on the other side of the room as a number of garments broke apart into hazy particulate matter, all of which dove towards Albus's body. A moment later and Albus was entirely clothed, his towel gone. Beneath his waistcoat, every single button of his tucked-in shirt was fastened. "Aberforth," Albus greeted, though it was too much breath and not enough sound and Albus's eyes were just a little too bright as he tried to calm the hammering of his heart within his chest. He tried to ignore the way it felt as if something was tipping, tried to pay no mind to the fear that knitting himself back to Gellert would unlace things between himself and his brother.

Gellert had not been expecting Aberforth to fight back.  Nor had he been expecting the force with which Aberforth tried to repel him, slamming through his mind.  The curse was mild to begin with, and Gellert felt his grasp on it snap as Aberforth tumbled off the side of the bed.  There was no hiding the shock that wrote itself across Gellert's face, though he quickly got it under control, suppressing it enough to look like nothing more than the vaguest concern for Aberforth's well-being.  (Not that even Albus would ever expect Gellert to be truly concerned for Aberforth, but he would understand the need for a pretense.)  He let his gaze flicker away from Aberforth toward Albus once more, unable to help but notice just how far he seemed to have taken the virtue of modesty, unable to help noticing the throaty quality of his words. 

Aberforth was trying to control his breathing as the past few minutes played over again in his head. He could still feel--he could feel--Gellert's phantom lips, his warm skin beneath his hands. He needed to take a scalding shower and scrub himself raw. He needed to brush his teeth until his gums bled. He heard the sounds of the other two men in the room as they went about registering their surprise and addressing him in turn. Remaining where he was for another moment, he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the heels of his hands against them. He felt disgusting. He felt used. He wanted real comfort. He wanted a hug from his brother or sister, he wanted to feel March's hand close over his once more. Sucking in a sharp breath, he brought a few calming images to mind before he rose on shaky legs.

"Sorry." he croaked, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his head. "S'just checking to see if you were okay." which clearly he was and Aberforth was all the worse.  It was funny how the one thing that made Albus happy made Aberforth miserable.

There were a million things Albus had done wrong. He'd had no time, no practical amount of time, to inform Aberforth, but that felt like no excuse. He'd relaxed the wards to permit Aberforth with no warning whatsoever. This moment was constructed by dozens of Albus's tiny failures. He'd done this to his brother, put Aberforth in the position to see too many trappings of things he neither understood nor wanted to- and that wasn't Aberforth's fault. In Aberforth's mind, he might not be so terribly affronted by the idea that Albus had no interest in women, but the practical reality was an altogether different matter. And Gellert- Albus's eyes darted back to him, because just a little warning would have been helpful, but again, lack of siblings came to mind. Albus's throat cleared itself before he said, "I'm... well, thank you." He simply didn't know how to say it more honestly, or what else to say. So he gave voice, however formally, to the curiosity, "Have you been waiting long?" At the tail end of the question his eyes darted back to Gellert once more, his eyes conveying a halfhearted inquiry as to why Gellert hadn't taken Aberforth downstairs.

Without the Imperius, and while Aberforth was still so dazed from hitting his head, Gellert did not trust him to answer correctly.  So he cut in, as though he had interpreted Albus's glance in his direction to mean that the question was open to him as well.  "He has only been here for a few minutes," Gellert said, turning his gaze down to his book long enough to fold over the corner of a page and set it aside.  "And since the water had just cut off, I decided there was no point in a pretense at formality.  You are brothers, after all."  Gellert gave Albus a small, light-hearted smile and looked down again, this time to do up the buttons on the cuffs of his sleeves.  He had forgotten them earlier.

Aberforth could still taste Gellert in his mouth, his lips pursing tightly together in response as he folded in on himself. He knew what it would seem like, but closing himself off right now was the only way he could deal with what had just happened. Clearing his throat and nodding his head, he scuffed his shoe on the floor before responding, "S'my fault. Didn't knock." he explained, raising his eyes to meet Albus's and managing a small smile before they dropped again. "Gellert was--" molesting me while you were in the shower--"nice enough to let me stay." Nice. Right.

Despite Gellert's reply, Albus couldn't help feeling that this was such a misstep. It was a sense only encouraged by the way Aberforth seemed to withdraw. Pure reflex drove Albus's mouth to curve into a resemblance of a smile when Aberforth met his gaze. Albus's ability to read his brother seemed to have been knocked down several pegs, back to where they'd been a few weeks ago. It was as if there were some code operating under the veneer of his words, but it was beyond Albus's comprehension. The sensation left him feeling more lost than it did frustrated. That feeling, however, sat shoulder to shoulder with a sort of relief that nothing terrible seemed to have happened in his absence. "Have you eaten?" Albus found himself asking Aberforth. "Would you like to stay for breakfast?" Again, the end of the question veered toward Gellert. Albus was, after all, offering up Gellert's skills rather than his own. But it only seemed practical to try to move them to a less intimate location, and if Aberforth and Gellert could play nicely here, surely breakfast wasn't so far a stretch.

The very thought of food had Aberforth's stomach turning. He definitely couldn't eat right now. His mind was too busy scrabbling to get a hold of itself and he would never be able to do that here. He needed quiet, but at the same time he wanted a comfortable presence. Ariana. March. They were the only two people he could think of since Albus had his sidekick back now. Nodding in response to his brother's first question, he glanced over at his coat before over to Gellert which had him wincing, before his gaze settled on Albus. "Oh. No. S'alright." it was too early for him to have eaten already though so in order to cover up his tracks he said, "M'going to see March now.--Just wanted to say hi." he explained, shifting his weight from one leg to the next.

Not that Gellert had expected Aberforth to respond in any other manner, but his declination nevertheless came as a bit of a relief.  He had nearly found himself grasping at the cords of magic connecting him to Albus and tugging on them, to remind him of the conversation they'd had so many weeks ago, after Valentine's Day.  When Albus agreed that perhaps it was best to let Aberforth and Gellert keep their distance from each other for a while.  Because entertaining though Aberforth may be, if an attitude change in Gellert's presence became too apparent as one of trauma, it could ruin everything. 

"Pity," Gellert said, the sentiment not matching his tone--and he made no effort to change that.  "Perhaps another time."  If anything, his voice had reclaimed some of its drawl from earlier, his motions becoming more slow and languorous.

Albus wasn't even sure if he'd expected Aberforth to stay. He had yet to accept an invitation that involved both Albus and Gellert. So Albus simply nodded, part of him actually a little pleased over the idea of Aberforth having plans. At first, he hadn't been entirely delighted over the implication that perhaps Aberforth was simply spending more time at the bar, but it was certainly too early in the day for Aberforth to be visiting her in a professional capacity. There was something just so terribly pleasant about the idea of Aberforth visiting a friend. It smoothed over the inherent sort of roughness to Aberforth's declination. Only, not so rough; Albus couldn't tell if Aberforth was getting better at it or if Albus was sumply accustomed. It was not hard at all to guess at how Gellert felt about the situation, but there just seemed to be something... off about speaking candidly with Gellert in front of someone else, and especially Aberforth. Dragging his eyes from Gellert, he said to his brother, "Sometime soon, perhaps just you and me and Ariana." And he meant it, he really did- and how could either Aberforth or Gellert truly object? He wanted to tell Aberforth that he'd come by later, but that seemed hasty and he couldn't help fearing that like this, Aberforth might politely tell him not to bother.

Aberforth very nearly flinched at the tone of Gellert's voice, taking a deep breath and wringing his hands together. He wanted to be closer to Albus, but being closer to Albus meant being closer to Gellert and he couldn't deal with that. Not right now. Not any time soon. "Soon." he agreed, thinking back to his conversation with Ariana. Had Gellert not been there, he would have named a date, but he definitely didn't want him to turn up. "I'll contact you." a beat, he glanced up "Me and Ariana were talking about that the other day--" he admitted. He couldn't remember the last time he had been in the same room with both his siblings. "--I'll ask her again." he added, clearing his throat and standing up a little straight. He wished he had a watch so he could check it now and excuse himself. As it was, he remained standing for a moment.

"I guess I should go." he said, biting down on his lower lip. He needed his jacket and scarf though which were over by Albus. Edging around the bed to retrieve them from the chair, he easily shrugged them on, scarf winding easily around his neck as he turned to Albus. "I am glad you're well." he said, voice clear and concise to get his point across. Gaze darting to Gellert, he stiffened a bit but managed what seemed to be a civil smile. "Gellert." he said with a curt nod as way of saying good-bye.

Gellert watched Aberforth go, his expression cool and unwavering. It worried him, a little, that Aberforth had tried to fight the Imperius.  That he had succeeded--though of course, that was more likely due to the weakness of the curse than any weakness in Gellert...or strength in Aberforth.  But he could take care of Aberforth later.  Put him under the Imperius, make him do enough things that went against his morality (more animal torture came to mind) that he would never dare fight Gellert's control again.

For the time being, though, he let Aberforth leave, waiting until the door had swung shut behind him before his hands lifted to his collar and began to undo the buttons of his shirt once more.  He did not speak, but kept his gaze fixed on Albus, fingers making quick work of his shirt before he was sliding it from his shoulders and tossing it toward the foot of the bed.

Soon. And his siblings had already discussed it. And decided against it, from the sound of things. And that was fine, Albus told himself. The private time between Aberforth and Ariana, well, it was simply that. So it was fine. Maybe it would have been different, maybe it had been different while Gellert was away, but that was no longer the case. Albus simply nodded, though more to accept the situation for what it was than acknowledging Aberforth's reply.

"Yes, thank you," Albus said to the last of Aberforth's words. "For checking in." There simply wasn't anything else to be said. He certainly couldn't voice his surprise over the fact that Aberforth had actually made an effort toward civility in Gellert's direction. Watching Aberforth go, he simply couldn't help feeling a little weary. It really was quite staggering how Albus could go from so mindlessly happy to feeling the weight of the world creeping back into his form. It didn't evaporate with Aberforth's departure, and it didn't relent even as he watched Gellert discard his shirt. Letting out a thoughtful breath, Albus stepped back over to the bed and sat down on the edge before he eased his back down against the mattress. He really was going to get a guardian or something for the front door.

"Well," Gellert said, more to break the ever-thickening silence than anything else, "thank god that's over."  He smiled and rolled over, crawling forward across the mattress to where Albus lay, leaning over to brush a kiss against his cheek.  It annoyed him to no end, how easily Aberforth's mere presence could make Albus revert to this state.  Oh, certainly a good deal of it was Gellert's fault, he was not denying that.  But they had only just reconciled.  It seemed a waste to move so quickly back to old worries and old concerns.

The press of Gellert's lips drew a quick glance from Albus, but he didn't exactly relax. How could he, when he should have handled that so much better? When he'd gotten so caught up in his own- But wasn't he entitled to just a little of his own- No. No, he wasn't. Obviously. Not unless he was willing to take the proper precautions. The proper, exhausting, practical precautions to ensure that every last loose end was neatly tied before he could relax. Before he could enjoy himself. And even now, he wanted to roll over, to press his face against Gellert's neck, and just hold on. Or let go. But Albus wasn't even sure he'd heard the front door yet. "Gellert," Albus murmured, reluctant reservation in his voice, "Aberforth..."

And then, at last, from downstairs they could hear the sound of the door slamming shut.  Gellert grinned and drew himself even closer, straddling Albus's waist and pinning his arms against the bed.  "....Isn't here anymore," Gellert finished for him.  And then he was kissing him again, releasing one of Albus's hands only to guide it to his waist, to press it against his bared skin.  God, Albus really could be so ridiculous sometimes.  Obsessing over what Aberforth thought about their relationship.  Absurd.  Gellert could think of no one whose opinion he valued less. The only one, Gellert was certain, that Albus ought to care about was him.

Albus hadn't even realized the way a sort of numbness had crept into him until the weight of Gellert's body settled atop his own, collapsing his attention down to this singular point of focus. And it was just- it was laughable, it was sweet, and it was precisely what he wanted and needed, for twice in one morning to not have been enough for Gellert. Because it wasn't enough for him, not when he'd thought, really thought that things might have been over. Albus's lips curled, however unwittingly, as his lips met Gellert's in earnest. Because his brother wasn't here. Because if Albus had to trade and broker on so many things, he was going to enjoy moments like these. He hesitated, of course, before letting go of the tense moments that wanted to fade from his mind the moment Gellert's warm skin occupied Albus's grasp. But what was there to do? The damage was already done. And Gellert- "You're a little addicted," Albus suspected, accused, his low, amused voice muffled a little against Gellert's lips. Although he felt far too dressed himself now, Albus slipped his fingertips under the wait of Gellert's trousers, tracing along the golden hand print that spanned Gellert's hip. Even as he did, Albus was already beginning to knit impossibly complex wards around the room.

Gellert smothered his amusement against Albus's collarbone.  "Only to you," he said.  And at first it was intended to be a lie--a planned reassurance.  For after all, Gellert had hardly stayed faithful to Albus during their two-week estrangement.  Had behaved, perhaps, like an addict, seeking out sex wherever he could find it.  (He could not, however, consider what had just occurred with Aberforth to be at all sexual; that had been an act of violence, of torture, not of sensuality....)

But the moment the words left his lips, Gellert thought that they were, perhaps, not untrue.  No matter who Gellert had brought to his bed, his thoughts had been with Albus.  Each act was calculated to forget him, or to hurt him.  Albus had been present every night--just not physically.

Gellert's gaze was softer, somehow, as he lifted his eyes to look at Albus once more.  "Yes," he whispered, brushing the pad of his thumb over Albus's lower lip.  "Perhaps I am addicted."

It had been a playful accusation, one Gellert had seemed to respond lightly enough to- but then the whole climate of the room seemed to change with the shift in Gellert's eyes. Albus's lips parted ever so slightly under the skim of Gellert's thumb, and he couldn't escape the sensation that it meant something. That maybe it mean what Gellert wasn't saying. It was a consideration Albus refused to grasp at, otherwise he'd never be able to pry his mental grip from around it, so he let his pass through him. Easily enough done, with the way he was suddenly so aware of the beat of his heart within his pleasantly tight chest. The hand at Gellert's waist slipped free, lifting card his fingers through Gellert's tousled curls as his eyes swept over Gellert's features.

"Maybe you are," Albus replied in a voice no louder than Gellert's only a moment before he was pulling Gellert back down to meet his lips. Because Albus didn't really want a discussion. Not at the moment. No, he wanted his hope and the sense of wholeness that was so terribly strong within him. The sound of velvet lips crushing together was drowned out by the rustling of Albus's clothes against the mussed sheets as he twisted their bodies, pushed Gellert onto his back, and covered Gellert's body with his own.