Who: Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald What: Plans carefully laid When: Sunday afternoon Where: Berlin Rating: PG-13? Status: Complete
Precisely how they'd wound up with Gellert half-off the bed, the mussed fall of his hair skimming along the carpet with each more forceful thrust of Albus's hips, Albus could only vaguely recall. He could no more clearly discern how they'd managed to disentangle themselves without tumbling off the bed entirely. Years of practice, his mind helpfully supplied as he fell back against the great wave of pillows, his skin still flushed and warm, his body still humming with the evaporating tension.
One hand tucked behind his head, the other strayed along the path of bite marks that littered the pale skin of his chest. He had no intention of healing them. He rarely ever bothered. Oh, he'd heal an open cut on his flesh to save the hassle of trying to spell away blood from fabric, or mend a mark too high on his neck, but other than that, he enjoyed the way such signs of affection lingered. But these, these were hot, red crescents likely to fade in a matter of hours. The skin would still be just a little sore the next day, when Gellert would inevitably find some excuse to casually smooth his hand over Albus's chest in a fashion that would appear almost innocent. Smile perched delicately on his lips, Albus's hand was reaching for Gellert to draw them back together again.
This- this was precisely why they scheduled dedicated hours for the administration of the NAA. Unless they began with the agreed intent to keep their hands to themselves, they inevitably wound up straying from matters of state to often far more entertaining exploits.
Gellert let Albus manipulate his body, all too willing to draw himself closer into the warm halo surrounding Albus's form. His hand found its way to Albus's stomach, fourth finger dipping into his navel as the rest spread flat against his hot, still-damp skin. He was silent for several moments, letting the quiet post-coital haze drift over them both. A small part of his mind had partitioned itself off for the purpose of reviewing his schedule for the rest of the day, trying to gauge how long he could stay here, like this, before some appointment demanded his presence elsewhere. Nothing for the next hour, at least. Gellert lifted his hand and a slender silver case was Summoned from the other side of the room, already flipping open the moment he had it in his grasp. He withdrew a single cigarette and then tossed the case to the foot of the mattress. Bringing the cigarette to his lips, all he had to do was inhale for the tip to begin to smoulder, coal-red heat glowing even in the sunlight that flowed in from their half-open window.
"Is there a position we haven't tried?" he asked Albus, passing the cigarette to his right and letting his hand fall back to its pattern of stroking along the plane of Albus's stomach. He honestly could not think of one. Almost seventy-nine years was certainly enough time to have explored most manners of sexual variation. But Albus spent much more time with Perenelle and Nicolas than he did; perhaps he had heard of some new trick as of late.
The light play of Gellert's touch across his skin traversed the comfortable terrain of the realm pleasantly short of ticklish. Sometimes, the nearly desperate collision of their bodies imbued Albus's body and mind with humid, muddled heaviness, a not-so-distant cousin to exhaustion. At the moment, however, he felt so pleasantly alert. His senses weren't on edge, his awareness bore no oversensitivity. His mind found a way to feel weightlessly at rest without the tethers of lethargy.
His hand descended his chest to catch up with Gellert's, slipping the cigarette from between his fingertips. Pressing it to his lips, his thoughts flipped through the catalogue of their carnal history, comparing it against the plausible possibilities. "We have never had sex on a broom midair," he said, rather pleased with himself for discovering one. He did think to add, "Though I imagine it might not be entirely comfortable." Penetrative sex, he supposed, would be a bit tricky to manage, but there were other options. Nevertheless, it was a rather idle musing as he settled the cigarette back into Gellert's grasp.
Gellert laughed. The image really was a little absurd to consider. He pushed himself up to lean back against the pillows and lifted the cigarette to his mouth to take in another long, slow drag. It was a good minute before he was able to think of anything else; there was too much variety to imagine in such a setting, and Gellert was a little reluctant to let his thoughts fade back to other, more mundane topics. But fade they did, after a time, though the subject to which they reverted was far from mundane.
It had never really been an option, bringing this up during one of their scheduled political meetings. Not when the subject material was so sensitive. It was far better to speak of it like this, when Albus was still lust-dizzy and relishing the afterglow of sex, the marks of Gellert's passion still red and fresh on his chest. Gellert handed him the cigarette after taking yet another drag, blowing out the smoke before saying, "I have been considering what to do about Mr. Lupin and his little...fugitive." Gellert had waited a few days after Cassandra informed him that Lupin was hiding a wanted man in his school dormitory before telling Albus, simply due to the fact that the topic Lupin himself presented with a few complications. Gellert wanted to be absolutely certain that there was no reason not to tell Albus before bringing it up. And there hadn't been. And this plan--this perfect, nearly flawless little plan--had been working itself out in Gellert's mind since the moment he heard of Cassandra's vision. For this, there had been cause for delay. He did not expect Albus to have any reservations, not really, but he did not want to make the suggestion if it was still only half-baked. "I believe I have come up with something that might work."
Albus's thoughts had halfheartedly strayed to weighing the pros, cons, and time restrictions on having a bath in the middle of the day. Though there was little else formally on his schedule, there were countless reports to read. The inherent beauty of a bath as opposed to a shower was the opportunity for multitasking. Then again, it was not entirely out of the question that Albus might become a bit too engrossed, lose track of the time, and accidentally spend three or four hours in a tub enchanted to keep the water warm.
Mention of the young Mr. Lupin, however, had such considerations slipping to the back of his mind. As it was, the situation didn't required any immediate action. In order to keep from being discovered, Sirius Black was, no doubt, enduring the special burden of a self-imposed incarceration. That Mr. Black was assuredly more content in the cell of Mr. Lupin's small room than he would have been at Nurmengard was of no consequence to Albus. The objective on imprisonment was not, after all, to impose some sort of penance, to exploit the human capacity for misery. The very purpose of punishment was not correction, but deterrence. Eventually, Sirius Black would need to be properly arrested, but no necessity cultivated a sense of urgency on Albus's part. Besides, there were repercussions to consider. It meant something, for someone to go so far as to aid and abet a friend. The implications such action of Remus's part were a matter of concern, but he showed too much promise for them to be damning. Albus had been all too pleased by Gellert's measured pace.
"Have you?" Albus replied, his tone a distilled bland curiosity. It was practical, he supposed, for Gellert to broach the subject slowly. The pace permitted Albus to consider a little hesitation- something he could attribute to the theory that perhaps Gellert thought he would disapprove. Albus's mind thus inevitably constructed a plethora of solutions he would find unappealing. He didn't suppose Gellert to be so foolish as to have come to the conclusion that simply hunting down and killing Sirius Black was the best option. He had not, however, missed the way Remus's eyes could stray to Gellert, and the speed with which they subsequently darted anywhere else.
Gellert inclined his head into a small, short nod. "I do not think it would be wise for us to arrest him," he said, handing the cigarette back to Albus and sinking a bit further into the pillows. "To do that would villainise us in Lupin's mind, whereas I think it would be much more prudent to have him assign the blame to Black himself." If all went according to Gellert's expectations, the plan was one that would not only remove Black from Lupin's correspondence, but with luck, extend the effect to almost all of Lupin's Resistance-sympathetic Hogwarts friends. He reached over to take Albus's free hand, moving it to rest on his thigh.
"I think I have found a way to completely alienate Lupin from Black, and from any other friends he may still keep from Hogwarts. I can ruin their trust in him, isolating him, until there is no one that he can trust or rely upon but me." Gellert was still delaying somewhat in telling Albus the entire plan. It was better to focus on the exposition more than the plan itself, no matter how much he thought Albus would be perfectly accepting of what it entailed, given the strong positive reward they would get in return.
Gellert's reasoning was sensible, though that came as no surprise. A truly perfect solution would be something that brought about an elevation of loyalty to the NAA over the other loyalties that pulled at young Lupin, a shift brought about by his own seemingly independent appraisal. Faith was never so strong as when taken up by a convert. Still, that Gellert continued to defer only broadened the extent of Albus's considerations. He found his thoughts straying from potential scenes of violence in favor of something less... overt. As they did, Albus could intellectually appreciate the merits of some potential courses of action, but delicacy would be the linchpin. A few decades before, and he would not have felt the need for much concern at all in that arena, but Gellert's... 'enthusiasm' had a way of rearing up quite sharply.
However, the faint tingle of unease that skittered along the pit of his stomach proved to be a reflexive, emotional element after a moment's study. Albus could set emotion-driven reluctance aside for the proper payoff. There were military advantages, of course. And benefits to be reaped for the department of propaganda. But it was difficult for Albus to overlook the prize of having a Healer- a Healer devoted to Gellert beyond the bonds of patriotism or fear. A Healer always took better care about those for whom they personally cared, it was an unalienable aspect of human nature.
Brushing the side of his thumb across the familiar skin of Gellert's thigh, Albus shifted onto his side to face Gellert a bit more. "Tell me," Albus said, the words quiet but not somber. Albus reserved experiencing his actual reaction until he knew better exactly what he was dealing with.
Gellert caught Albus's gaze and paused for a moment, but then nodded. "Lupin invited a Hogwarts friend to accompany him to last Wednesday's ball, as I am sure you observed," he said. Taking Albus's wrist, he drew his hand upward and brought the cigarette that Albus still held to his own lips. His eyes fell briefly closed as he inhaled, the smoke no longer harsh on the back of his throat after using the Elixir for so many years. "I was thinking that I might suggest to him that he invite her to visit him once more. An elongated stay, this time--perhaps a week. A benevolent gesture, from me to him."
Gellert released Albus's arm and let his own hand fall to rest atop the one that was on his thigh, thumb rubbing small circles into the skin between Albus's thumb and forefinger. "I will invite the both of them to another one of the smaller staff parties. And toward the end of the party, Lupin and I will find a way to slip out relatively unnoticed into one of the adjoining rooms. When his friend realises he is missing, she is certain to come looking for him. And when she does, she will find him sequestered away with me. Kissing me, in such a manner that it could not be construed as accidental or unwanted on his part." Gellert said the words matter-of-factly, as if they were only practical. Which, he thought, they were. "She is bound to tell Mr. Black that Lupin is sleeping with the Chancellor. Black is unlikely to be able to trust Lupin after that. And once all of Lupin's other former friends find out...." The corner of Gellert's lips twitched into a smirk. "And it is hardly my fault. I never meant for Lupin's friend to find us. I had no idea that Lupin was hiding Sirius Black in his rooms. Lupin can still trust me."
Albus didn't feel the need to nod for Gellert to know he had, of course, noticed his pixie-haired friend. He likely would have, even if she weren't Remus's guest, even if her hair wasn't curiously short, if for no other reason that he couldn't help himself from noticing practically anyone he didn't know- and especially those from England. So he just waited, his hand and gaze moving easily to Gellert's lips. It was a simple pleasure to watch Gellert's mouth as he spoke. Absently tapping a bit of ash into the small porcelain dish that floated over from the nightstand, Albus let the scene of it unfurl in his mind. He barely needed to engage his rather formidable imagination to see it all too clearly. It wasn't so much the hypothetical meeting of their lips that plucked a cord of discontent at the base of Albus's spine- it was the way he could envision Gellert's hand slipping into tousled brown hair, the way Lupin would no doubt cling to Gellert's body. The play of it against his mind's eye and the slight discomfort that came with it were held at an emotional distance, like memories of pain instead of experiencing an injury.
His lips pursed around the end of the cigarette, using the gesture to afford enough time for him to be certain the only negative elements of such a plan were completely irrelevant. Albus had never enjoyed instances where Gellert's body or affections had been the best tool for a particular job, but he was quite aware that his own enjoyment was not the aim of the universe. That he was certain Gellert would likely enjoy this particular instance on its own merits was considered, but it was hardly grounds for objection. In fact, he could think of only one, and even before he spoke, he suspected Gellert would have satisfactory reply. "You don't think this would work its way to the rumour mill?"
There were, after all, quite enough burdens on Gellert's image already without adding 'adulterer' to the list.
Gellert simply shrugged. "Amongst a certain clique of students, perhaps," he said, "but I doubt it would progress any further. For one, these children will still wish to protect Lupin's own reputation, even if they care nothing for mine. Also, they are students. Nothing they say is horribly likely to be believed by anyone not already sympathetic to the Resistance." He slipped down to lie flat on the bed again, turning onto his side so that he and Albus were face to face, his fingers idly skimming along Albus's upper arm, his skin still warm from the exertion of just five minutes ago.
"Besides," he continued, deciding that it would do no harm to throw in a suggestion that would be certain to make this all worth Albus's while, "I could endeavour to be more affectionate with you, in the public eye," he said. "Try to...mimic your own behaviour, to an extent." Not too much--not enough to risk undoing the careful dichotomy of their co-leadership styles, but enough to reaffirm to the empire that he had married Albus for a reason. And as far as they were concerned, that reason had been love.
An occasional rumour couldn't really be avoided. In an amusing sort of way, the mere fact that they cropped up could prove how untrue they were. It was hardly difficult to suspect that Gellert Grindelwald might, for the sake of convenience, simply kill a lover foolish enough to open his mouth. Perhaps Albus ought to find it surreal, the things he found comforting.
Perhaps he should have found it suspect, how Gellert had put it to him. In such unguarded, intimate state, Albus was all too positively inclined. And it was hardly so extreme as the scenarios Albus had considered. It wasn't sleeping with Lupin, which might open up too many uncontrollable variables. It wasn't framing Sirius Black for something, which would have been far more complicated. No, this preyed nicely on predictable interpersonal reactions and carefully cloaked them, Gellert, and the NAA from potential blame. And Gellert's offer held no meager draw. Not only was it remarkably good for Gellert's image, Albus didn't bother to deny the practically irrational delight over Gellert's public affection. It served little purpose but his own pleasure for Gellert to permit himself to seem emotionally attached and invested. Oh, there was the issue of image and the public gaze, but if Albus were terribly honest, such concerns were secondary. No less valid, but secondary.
Still, his lips curled into a far too amused smile. "To an extent," he agreed. It would be little short of absurd for Gellert to provide a perfect reflection- not to mention inconvenient and destructive to the roles they'd spent so many years crafting. Yet, spontaneity and impulsiveness could be pleasant things, when it manifested as Gellert abruptly pulling him close - because it always felt abrupt, the few times it happened in public. And there was true value in his own surprise. If Gellert's affections ever became common, ever became mundane, the citizenry might no longer regard it as remarkable, and the value of it would diminish.
There was, then, only one matter left to be resolved. "Where will you do this?" he asked, his sanction implicit with the use of 'will' over 'would.' After all, timing was certainly an issue, but there was no denying the relation between space and time. How else would Lupin's young friend know where to look for him if she did not overhear some reference to a location, if the path to that location were not clear of security?
A smile overtook Gellert's lips at what was clearly granted permission from Albus to carry on with his plan. He hesitated for a moment, considering the public administrative rooms in the wing in which the small staff parties were generally held. He needed a room that was relatively small, to enhance the sense of intimacy.... "I was thinking the Achtenberg room," he suggested at last, his hand falling still on Albus's arm, just above his elbow.
It was relatively small, after all--as small as any rooms in the Wilmersdorf went--and had a lovely deep blue colour scheme that would greatly assist in creating that atmosphere of secrecy and sensuality. His forefinger set to tracing small circles on Albus's flesh, his hands truly incapable of keeping still for any extended amount of time. He doubted Albus was unaware as to the reason that Gellert had chosen this moment--this precise timing--to suggest such a plan. But after years of being subjected to such subtle manipulations at Gellert's hand, if Albus noticed, he hardly seemed to mind. It was mildly endearing, the things that Albus put up with when it was Gellert who instigated them. For all his intellect, for all his peerage, had Albus not possessed remarkable patience where Gellert was concerned, Gellert doubted they would have made it in a relatively-monogamous relationship for as long as they had.
Albus's muscles couldn't help but relax under the attention of Gellert's touch. His skin felt all the more sensitive, but the muscle below yielded every last remnant of tension. Gellert's room selection was turned over in his head. All in all, it was a proper venue for Gellert's task. The back of his mind had no doubt that Gellert was all too likely to find a way to provoke Lupin into kissing him- it was a unique talent of Gellert's, Albus could admit with rueful amusement. Of all Gellert's talents, seduction was hardly one of his weaker suits, and Gellert had a way about him that could more entice than subjugate. When it suited him, anyway.
"Perhaps the Wandgemälde room, instead?" Albus offered. "Easier to find if you're unfamiliar with the building." And that, he was sure, was certainly a concern. Not to mention, next to an exit that was easier to monitor discretely. He still wasn't thrilled about the plan, but the payoff seemed well worth the personal imposition.
The suggestion was not without merit. The Wandgemälde lacked the colour of drapes that Gellert would have wished for such a rendezvous, but violet was hardly garish. What was more, the door that led to the Wandgemälde from the room in which the party was being held only led to two rooms--the Wandgemälde itself and one other. It would be all too easy, when asked, for Albus to say that Gellert went in 'that direction' without giving away his knowledge of who, precisely, Gellert had disappeared with.
"Hmm," Gellert said, tilting in to brush his lips against the hollow at the base of Albus's throat. "Perhaps you're right. Much easier to find." His hand drifted from Albus's arm further down to instead smooth along the curve of his hip. "You will have to be sure not to let it be known that I left with Lupin, when you let her overhear us," he added after a moment.
Somehow, the cigarette found its way to snuffing itself out in the ashtray as Gellert's lips met his skin again. Albus hummed out his agreement, which was close enough to a commitment. He didn't care to rule out or settle on one particular course of action too far in advance. Adaptability was key, of course. And Albus was certainly clever enough to make the best use of whatever opportunity arose.
Albus let his dislike of the idea of Gellert kissing, touching, holding anyone but himself slide to back of his mind. There was hardly any need to consider such things at the moment. Instead, he wound his arms around Gellert's body, his hands idly skimming across hot skin, tracing over his favourite dips and curves. It was different, he knew, between Gellert and other people, and that was something of the saving grace. They might get to enjoy Gellert's body for a time - a brief time - but Albus held a far deeper part of Gellert. A part that was his alone. So he could handle all the rest without too much complaint.