InsaneJournal

One could say the honeymoon period was over. The realities of this new war had begun to infiltrate their lives once again, this time interrupting their happiness. Discussions about the Order, heavy looks and long pauses, and the conflicting work schedules. But there were the moments that made it all worth it. Reading the paper in the greenhouse while watching Gideon work, writing while watching Gideon do chores (which usually turned into ink staining his fingers while he lost his train of thought watching his shirtless lover working), and his favourite, watching Gideon sleep. There were times he couldn't believe his luck, that he'd gotten another chance at happiness with a man who knew what it was to have loved and lost. Which could be why he found it so easy to simply sit in bed and watch the man next to him.

The sheets were caught low on Gideon's hip and Bilius smiled when he saw one of the cats curled up on top of Gideon's legs. Bilius' fingers reached out, tracing the other man's spine with his fingers. There was something about Gideon's body that made him want to touch. The sun kissed skin, the hard, taut muscles, the scars. All of it formed the beautiful, dangerous man in front of him. His hand ran up Gideon's back and then down over a solid arm before pressing a kiss to a shoulder. Setting aside his book, Bilius burrowed under the blankets and wrapped an arm and a leg around Gideon, snuggling close to steal the other man's body heat.

“You know,” came a low rumble of a voice, half muffled by the the pillow in which his face was buried, eyes still closed in the semblance of slumber, “For a vocal feline hater, you share many similar qualities.” Finally, Gideon opened his eyes half way, looking directly into Bilius’s, as close as their faces were, limbs entwined, shared delicious body heat, until he could no longer tell where he ended and Bilius began. One of Bilius’s gifts: the rediscovered ability to wake up in degrees, a slow unfurl to wakefulness, secure in the warmth and love of another. He’d forgot that kind of peacefulness, that stillness. He still found himself sleeping curled up in on himself, as small as he could, but now he could wrap all of himself around another, whatever driving him to perpetual self-protection halved therein.

"I am not a cat," Bilius complained, brushing his lips against Gideon's. "Maybe a dog who will lick you to death," he suggested, a hand tracing patterns on Gideon's back, tracing the definitions of the well developed muscles. "Happy birthday, young'un."

There may have been a time, once, when he had thought of birthdays as joyous occasions, days to be anticipated and celebrated with childish fanfare -- of course, even on his birthday, he did not have much hope for singled out focus. In recent years, of course, they had been days just like any other, perhaps imbued with a quiet note of defiance for having made it through another year. It was only now, hearing the words shaped aloud, that there was an almost unfamiliar thread of pleasure, a feeling twinned in the physical touches by a man whom he loved and who loved him back -- uniquely, singularly, something he could selfishly covet all his own. “Forty-six,” he murmured, almost in contemplation as he deepened the kiss in return, moving a leg beneath the sheets to curl over Bilius’s hip in turn (upsetting a snoozing cat in the process who glared at him and moved to a corner of the bed, flicking its tail in disgruntlement). “Look at you, robbing the cradle then.”

"Well, as long as this cradle is a large comfortable bed, then I'm rather content with my life choices," Bilius said with a grin, nipping at Gideon's lower lip. He shifted his weight, pressing his hips against Gideon's. Apart from the bandages on his chest and hand, he was naked and enjoyed the heat radiating from Gideon's body. "I do believe I promised you a day entirely spent in bed. As requested."

As vastly unrealistic as the promise elicited was, the thought still caused a langourous smile to curve the corners of his mouth. “Knowing us, the bed was entirely optional.” The wanting, too, was a novel feeling. For so long, Gideon had forgotten the simple and yet profound pleasure of touch, of the most tender and most primal acts, and now -- now, he knew endless, unsated hunger for them, wonder how he could possibly have gone without for so long. “Just you, just this -- that’s all I could ever ask for and be…happy. For once, Bilius, I am happy.”

"Well then, I guess I shan't be giving you any presents after all. And certainly not making you breakfast in bed," Bilius teased, trailing kisses along Gideon's jawline. "I would, after all hate to intrude on such well earned happiness." One hand drifted lower, setting to caress Gideon's hip. The bandages on his chest itched where he pressed against Gideon, but it was still better than the alternative. He kissed Gideon then, long and slow. "That makes two happy old men in this bed."

“We make this getting older business look good, don’t we?” he huffed out in a laugh, tipping his face towards Bilius, slipping an arm around his waist to draw him closer as a thread of arousal unwound indolently through him and he found more important points of skin on Bilius’s body to touch and taste, from the corner at his jaw to teasing a hardening nipple to simply taking in the fullness of his mouth as he lazily thrust his hips and sought the small licks of resultant pleasure.

But when his fingers skirted the edges of the dressings and caught on the tackiness of an unmoored edge of tape, he paused, and looked down at the bandages — changed regularly, stark white — and then back up.

It broke the spell momentarily and Bilius caught Gideon's hand, bringing the fingers to his lips and kissing them. The wounds on his chest were healing well and there was no need to keep it bandaged - there hadn't been for several weeks - but Bilius didn't want to look at it. It was easier to hide it, so he didn't have to look at it, turning away when the dressings were changed. Gideon indulged him, changing the unnecessary dressings. He sucked Gideon's fingers into his mouth. He had thought about removing the dressings - at least for today, but now, now he just wanted to keep it hidden.

Bilius kissed Gideon's jawline. "I think I'm getting used to this new look."

The unspoken words around the equally unacknowledged issue still held a weight that would, one way or another, fall heavily upon them, but Gideon would not let it fall now, at least. Instead, he stroked the now non-existent beard along his jaw thoughtfully. “I feel a bit naked,” he confessed. He hadn’t, in fact, gazed at himself in the mirror much thereafter (not that he had much before in any case) and whenever he caught sight of himself, it startled him, that face from the past.

Bilius chuckled, hand sliding down Gideon's chest. "I hate to break it to you, love, but you are naked." He lifted up the sheet and peeked under it. "Quite naked indeed," he said, feigning surprise even though there was a grin spreading across his face. "Whatever will we do?"

Bilius pulled back, face scrunching as though he were trying to make a decision. Leaning in, he kissed Gideon tenderly. "Close your eyes." Satisfied that his instructions were obeyed, Bilius pulled back and turned around, slowly unwrapping the bandages around his chest. He took a deep breath as he set the bandages on the nightstand and then moved back to lie on his stomach next to Gideon, his breath hitching in his throat. "Alright. You can open."

There was the rustle of sheets and the shifting weight across the mattress. When Gideon opened his eyes, a brow knitted in slight bemusement to see Bilius laid alongside him, a pale expanse of lightly freckled skin and fine burnished red hair. As if drawn by force, his hand settled along Bilius’s spine, drifting lower. “Is this where I am to gift you with a birthday back massage?” he teased even as, gaze missing nothing, he spied the dressing on the table beyond.

"Well, I think I'd have to be very ill indeed to refuse a massage from you, what with those magical hands of yours," Bilius said, turning his head to grin at Gideon. "But I seem to recall the gentleman asking for me spread out starkers at his disposal all day. And I do aim to please. At least for birthdays and Christmas. Who knows about the rest of the time." He tried to hide his nervousness and hoped that this would be enough, that Gideon wouldn't ask him to turn over.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a gentleman, making those kinds of requests,” Gideon said archly, even as his gaze swept fully down the display before him and he rose up over Bilius, knee planted in the mattress between his legs, a hand drifting down now to a fleshier bottom, pressing a kiss to a shoulder blade, and then to the tense line of his spine. He swept back a lock of wild red hair, lips hovering against Bilius’s ear. “I wouldn’t listen to him, especially if you’re uncomfortable.”

"I'm alright like this, Gideon," Bilius reassured him, relaxing under the other man's touch. This was Gideon, who knew his body as well as he did, who had seen the worst of the damage early on. "Just the first time in a while. You know."

He sat back up.

"I've seen so many ugly things in my life, Bilius."

He traced a path down Bilius's spine and then back up again, pressing into muscle to relax those tense lines -- a massage after all -- sweeping in circles until he could knead the base of his spine, bending down to press his lips against the heated skin there and breathe against it

"And nothing about you could ever one of them."

And, parting the globes of pale flesh, he leaned down and pressed his tongue against that tight puckered entrance in broad, insistent and heavy passes.

The massage had the intended effect, turning the older man into yielding, pliable flesh beneath Gideon's ministrations. Bilius' breath caught in his throat at his words until Gideon's tongue distracted him, causing the don't lie to go unspoken.

"Gideon...." Was all he could manage to moan out in that moment, wantonly pressing back against his lover's mouth.

For a man quick with words, it was the non-verbal utterances which Gideon sought and was driven by as he continued his ministrations, tongue and lips pressing in as deeply and wetly as he could. He slid his hand further down, stroking the soft skin there, wordlessly urging Bilius to raise his hips to garner him access to the soft palmful of testicles he cupped before circling his hand around hardened flesh, almost feather light at first, and then in firm, short strokes, as far as he could get between Bilius’s body and the mattress, palming the beading moisture until his hand was slick and hot.

It was one of the things he loved about Gideon, his unrestrained nature in bed (or anywhere private) despite the quiet, reserved exterior. Their sex life exceeded Bilius' expectations, perhaps because they were both making up for lost time. The why was not important, though. Bilius' hands fisted in the sheets as he was brought back to the present, raising himself up on his knees to give Gideon better access. His face was pressed into the pillows in a vain attempt to muffle the moans as he thrust into Gideon's hand. "Liar," he whimpered softly into the pillows, wondering just how daft Gideon was when it came to him. There was no way he had been good looking naked before the attack and Alecto had just increased the ugliness on his body. He wasn't sure if Gideon had heard him, but there was a sharp tug on his cock and Bilius gasped, turning his flushed face to the side. "I thought this was supposed to be a present for you…. not spoil me rotten."

With one last swipe of his tongue, Gideon pulled away, his own face flush, breath falling heavier. "Don't get me wrong, this is all for me," he nearly growled, punctuating the statement with a hard stroke before letting go of him completely, hard and wanting, to retrieve the lubricant they kept in the bedside table drawer. He was unbearably hard, wanting nothing more than to drive himself into Bilius's body until all the colours and edges of the world blurred together. "I want to see your face."

Bilius shivered, still unused to the notion that someone would be so consumed with need for him now, old and scarred as he was. "Gid..." He moaned out hoarsely before the request made its way to his lust addled brain. His hands still clutched the sheet as he rolled onto his back with it draped over his chest like a toga.

"That's because you love watching the moment you make my eyes roll back in my head," Bilius teased affectionately, pulling Gideon down on top of him. "Want you in me...."

"I may have a tendency towards secrets and silence, but it's only because I'm a terrible liar." He took advantage of their closeness to cup Bilius's face tenderly as he took the opportunity to study every single aspect of Bilius's face, flushed skin, dilated eyes, running his thumb across wet lips. "I love to look at you because I find every part of you beautiful, resilient and so, so strong."

And then with a slow grin, he pressed two wet fingers into Bilius, fingers curling up within that tight heat as he slid them in and out, hinting a scrape teeth across the rough, stubbled chin and adding, "And yes, I want to watch your face, especially when you come. I love being inside you, feeling you clench around me as I fuck you."

Bilius nipped at the thumb before sucking it into his mouth briefly. "You talk too much," he chastised before he let out a low, guttural groan as Gideon expertly found that spot that made Bilius' toes curl.

Slipping his fingers free, he pulled back up, eyes never leaving Bilius's as he lifted one of Bilius's legs to brace against his hip as wrapped a slick hand around himself, stroking root to tip, before entering Bilius in one smooth, long thrust, mouth falling open at the pleasurable sensations which sung up his spine.

He clung to Gideon when he pushed in, hands reaching for whatever flesh they could grasp. His eyes stayed trained on Gideon, unfocused though they were and darkened with lust. His mouth fell open in a soundless moan as Gideon pressed in, filling and stretching him. Taking a moment, he hooked his leg to keep Gideon buried to the hilt. "I’d keep you in this spot all day if I could," he said, a lazy smirk on his face.

"Makes my birthday plan a rather brilliant one, don't you think?" Gideon gasped out once he had regained some semblance of control over himself and had the wherewithal to speak, and even still, his hips couldn't help shifting in small grinding thrusts.

Bilius attempted to roll his eyes but settled on giving Gideon a dirty look and pulling him down for a hard kiss. This was perfection. Once his breathing returned to what passed for normal, he nipped at Gideon's lower lip. "Will you just shut up and fuck me?"

“As sir wishes.” Gideon loved this, the feeling of connection, physically, emotionally, meted out in sweat, skin and saliva. Even after so many years outside of Azkaban, touch still felt like novelty, being so wholly subsumed by another an altogether different reality. In the heat and wetness of Bilius's lips, his body beneath him and all around him, whatever concerns the outside world held fell away. The entirety of his world centred on this: the slow slide almost all the way out and the forceful push in, angled slightly up, not as deep as he wished it could be at this angle, but laying his body all along Bilius's was reward enough, feeling the push and pull of his body reverberate in the body beneath him, thrusts almost painfully slow and forceful, enough to drive the air from his own lungs in low moans, just barely enough to scratch the surface of that building pressure.

There was a raspy laugh at the sheer fact of being called sir by anyone, especially Gideon. His head fell back. "Fuck..." He moaned out, the word falling breathless from his lips. He clenched around Gideon, trying to draw him in deeper on each thrust, fingernails digging into flesh for purchase. Today he was determined to let Gideon set the pace of their encounter, agonizing though it might be. The sheet caught trapped between their bodies sliding to the side when Bilius pulled back long enough to gulp air before devouring Gideon's mouth in another kiss, flinching slightly at the feel of flesh, hot and sweaty, against his scarred chest.

It was torture in and of itself, and Gideon savoured the not quite enoughness of it, the sting of fingernails into his skin, the prolonged agony of hovering just at that edge with only their heavy breaths and moans into each other's mouths, the slide of sweaty skin against skin, the steady rocking of the bed. The revelation of rough pink scars marking stark trails across Bilius's pale chest, sparked a low spool of renewed anger, a dark simmering reminder of what had been done, of how much it still affected Bilius even now. The hand that had been used to grip the headboard for purchase spread out now across Bilius chest, just over his heart. He lowered his lips to those scars, mouthing them, running his tongue along the still sensitive raised lines as the need to move faster and harder became harder to ignore. He raised himself up, drove his hips in deeper thrusts with increasing speed as took hold of Bilius's cock to stroke him in the same speeding rhythm.

Bilius flinched at the touch, turning away and closing his eyes, biting his lip. He shivered at Gideon's mouth on his chest. "Please..." He whimpered, unsure of whether asking Gideon to stop or continue. When the hard thrusts started, he cried out in pleasure, head thrown back and overwhelmed with sensation.

"Every part," he gasped, "I love." The mounting pressure and sensation pooled low in his hips until it crested over; his thrusts grew staggered and he tried to maintain that steady, urgent speed, hand fisted around Bilius's cock until his release hit him and he cried out, pressing in as deeply as he could, thrusting through that clenching heat to seek out every last vestige of pleasure from every last nerve ending.

It was, all in all, too much for Bilius to handle. He still couldn't understand how Gideon could love the scars, could think him brave, none of it made any sense. But in that moment, all that mattered were the erratic thrusts and strokes pushing him towards the edge. His fingernails were sure to leave marks in Gideon's flesh considering how hard he was holding on. When the wave of pleasure broke, he cried out loudly, his entire body clenching and spasming around Gideon as he spent himself over Gideon's hand and stomach. Guttural moans were all he could managed, eyes clenched shut as his toes curled before he finally fell back limply against the pillows, one fist falling from Gideon to curl in the sheet while the other still seemed to cling to him for dear life.

Seconds, minutes, hours could have passed before Gideon's pulse slowed, his breaths steadied and his awareness of the world receded back into itself, outlining the physical aftermath of hot, sweat-dampened limbs plastered against each other, the tight warm heat of still being inside Bilius, the heavy blissful torpor settling into his bones. Slowly, he eased himself out bent low to lick a broad swipe from the base underside of Bilius's cock to the mess splattered across his stomach, drawing himself further up to curl his tongue around a hardened nipple, a kiss to a pink scar and then drawing his face in for a full final and messy kiss to share with Bilius the taste of his travels.

Bilius arched into the kiss, enjoying the mingling of tastes, even as his hand came to cover the scars on his chest, wedging itself between their bodies. He dragged out the kiss, rolling Gideon to the side so he could pull the sheet around his body. He tangled a hand through Gideon's hair, teasing swollen lips with his teeth. "Happy birthday, love..."

His hand came to rest over the sheet, atop Bilius's, until his fingers threaded themselves through and he squeezed them once, gently. He couldn't help but smile against Bilius's neck as he placed kisses at his pulse point. "Happy indeed."

Bilius pulled their hands away, keeping the sheet where it was as he pressed his body closer to Gideon's, tucking his head against the other man's neck. He wrapped his arm tightly around Gideon, trying to stay in the warm, sweaty post orgasmic glow rather than give in to the anxiety and doubt that lingered at the periphery of his consciousness. It was stupid and senseless, he knew. He just wanted to keep it at bay at least another day. He didn't want anything to spoil today. If he could just burrow deep enough into Gideon's embrace, it would be alright.

As if drawn by invisible strings, his body curled in towards Bilius’s, moving his hand to instead curl around his hip and skirt the base of his spine. “And for a writer,” he whispered against a damp temple, “You don’t seem to put much stock in words.”

A leg worked its way between Gideon's as if needing to be one with the younger man once more in any way necessary. His teeth grazed the muscles of Gideon's shoulder in warning. "Gideon.." he pleaded, the rest of the sentence unspoken as he silently urged Gideon not to continue that train of thought. He could handle the reveal of skin here in bed at a stretch, but talking about it was too much to ask of him.

With a sigh and a kiss placed to his temple, Gideon reluctantly disentangled himself from Bilius and rolled out of the bed. A robe was tossed at Bilius’s head. “Whose idea was it to not wear clothes the entire day? March is too bloody cold for that.” He grinned at Bilius, shrugging into his own robe. “Now what was it, something about breakfast in bed?”

Bilius whimpered at the loss of contact before catching the robe. Tying it closed (and tugging it to make sure it covered the scars) he reluctantly rolled out of bed, only to wrap his arms around Gideon once more from behind and plant a kiss between his shoulder blades. "That would have been your brilliant idea, birthday boy. You relax and I'll take care of breakfast," he said, following a small herd of animals towards the kitchen.

He watched the miniature parade trail out of the room with a quiet fondness before eying the shrunken school trunk he had deposited on the bureau the evening before. “How do you feel about meeting my parents?” he called out, running a hand over the polished wooden lid, but resisting the temptation to open it.

Bilius set the kettle on the stove and paused. "Your parents?" He asked in surprise. It took a moment before he recovered enough to dish out food to the four legged beasts and started pulling out fixings for breakfast. "I suppose I haven't thought about it much. Why?"

“They’re...making an effort, I suppose.” With a flick of his fingers, the trunk opened, the books and portrait nestled within. He pulled out the portrait first, at this size, fitted between his thumb and forefinger. Closing one eye, he brought the shrunken portrait up to eye level, trying to peer into its tiny frame. “They want us to know if we’d come up in April over the holiday. The rest of the family too. They like to entertain. They’ve held dinner parties practically every other bloody week when I was a child, hosting some important dignitary or international sensation or whomever. You’d think with all the practise I’d had bowing and scraping, I’d be more charming now.”

Bilius couldn't help but chuckle. Meeting the parents. It was - surreal, to say the least, and quite a foreign concept. On his way to the kitchen, he'd found a scarf to wrap round his neck as a cravat, tucking it into the robe and feeling more secure about the lack of skin showing. He walked back into the main room, a bowl of half beaten eggs tucked under his arm. "The Weasleys? At a proper dinner party? They do know who we are, right?" he asked, ginger eyebrows arching.

“Quite. Right around the time your younger brother sniffed around my elder sister.” He arched a dark brow right back. How fierce the arguments had been when the inevitable betrothal had been announced. “But I suppose your concerns are...well founded. When I say the whole family, I mean...they’re going to invite Madoc as well. So, I’m predicting a veritable disaster.”

Bilius shook his head and chuckled, causing the sweaty, bedhead ginger curls to shake in every direction. "Well, if you're already preparing for a disaster, I suppose I can't help but oblige. As long as this is what you want, love, I'll support you in it completely."

“To be honest,” he said, setting the shrunken painting down on the floor, leaning it up against the furniture and then stepping back to retrieve his wand from the bedside table, “all of this has me absolutely terrified, but I love my family. And I love you. It had to happen some time.” With a wordless wave of his wand, the painting expanded -- quite large at nearly a metre and a half across, in fact, though smaller than he remembered it looming over him high up on the corridor wall like a window into another world. “I have no idea where I can put this.” He didn’t know if there was even a wall big enough for it.

Bilius set the bowl down on the table and came over to wrap an arm around Gideon, squeezing him affectionately. "We don't need to do more than you're comfortable with, Gideon," he said reassuringly, gazing at the now large painting. It was.. surprising, to say the least, and a change from the cottage's current decor. The dark woodland scene wasn't particularly his taste, but by the way Gideon looked at it, he was fairly certain it held some appeal for Gideon. "Well, we'll just have to make room then. I suppose we can shift some things about in here. Or add on some space."

He gave Bilius sidelong look, noting the careful efforts at neutrality. “Given your reaction, I suppose this won’t be hanging over the headboard any time soon.” His gaze was soon drawn back to the portrait in question. “Well yours isn’t an unpopular one. Probably why my parents had it hanging in the darkest, most remote corner they could find. Maybe that’s why I always liked it.” His to love and his alone. He had always selfishly sought out things he could have to himself. “I suppose it’s getting a bit crowded in here. When I built this cottage, I wasn’t planning on ever finding someone to share a life with again.”

Bilius shrugged. "It might grow on me," he said with a half smile. "Art is not my area of expertise." He pressed another kiss to Gideon's cheek and glanced around. "Between us and the menagerie it's certainly cozy, though I imagine the girls will be spending more time outside once it gets warmer. Though if we're both inside and working, I wouldn't want to be in your way...." The decision to cohabitate had been made on the fly and perhaps not completely well thought out, but Bilius had no intent of going back on it. "And there's still the flat in hogsmeade that we have.." And a job Bilius wasn't sure if he would keep.

We. For such a small word, it held so much significance, and it impacted everything in Gideon’s life down to the smallest, most mundane detail. For such a small word, it carried with it so much warmth. “Oh, I dunno. Might be fun for a weekend tryst,” he said, giving Bilius a decidedly lascivious look as he turned towards him and circled his arms around his waist. “You could never be in my way. But I think you’re right. It’s not as if there isn’t enough land.”

"Where have you been hiding your delightful perverted self all my life?" Bilius asked, pulling him down for a hungry kiss, lingering longer than strictly necessary. "And you've yet to see me in a fit of writing or trying to meet a deadline. Not that I've done much of either in recent years." He raised an eyebrow at Gideon. Home improvements seemed to be yet another level of intimacy and permanency. "Only if you're certain, love. I could always write at the flat.." But the fact of the matter was that he didn't want to. He wanted to spend as much of his time with Gideon as possible. "Although it might be nice to have someplace I can have folks over without intruding on your peace."

“I should think earlier would have been evidence enough, but if you need more convincing, I am happy to provide it,” he said once his lips parted from Bilius’s, and he was tempted to do just that anyway as his hands toyed with the sash keeping his robe closed. But oh, that was right: Bilius was, by far, the much more social creature than he, and the sudden thought of his quiet world being pried open to even more people was an anxious one. Yet he could hardly demand Bilius become a recluse, force him to refuse all visitors to what was now his home as well. This land had been Gideon’s sanctuary and refuge for several years now, but once the crack had formed in his walls, it could only widen. What you’ve done to me. What you’re doing to me now. “An office for you, then. A sunroom, made of glass, in which the cats will never leave. A guest room. We’ll draw up plans. We can start later in the spring. This is your home now as much as it is mine. I’m sure.”

"Perhaps I just want continued proof of your debauchery," Bilius said, pressing a kiss to Gideon's jaw as he slid a hand into Gideon's robe to caress the hard planes of his stomach. He had some semblance of what this meant for Gideon and the gravity of overturning his lover’s life. "Do you promise? If it's too much, just say so. I can still be perfectly happy here and entertain people at the pub. I don't want to turn your sanctuary into a pub. I do like its quiet, set apart from the world, like our own little paradise - though I may prefer a bit more warm weather."

Cupping Bilius’s face, he drew his face up and leaned down to kiss him deeply. It always felt like a smouldering fire now, ready to be stoked into a blaze with a touch or a kiss. “I promise. There have to be ways to have a happy medium. We’ll find them.”