Gellert was still smirking when he slid off his stool and stepped toward Albus, predation marking every move he made. His pins remained in their cushion on the table, for all appearances completely forgotten, all of Gellert's focus completely stolen by Albus.
And Gellert could see what Albus truly felt, even if he tried to hide it. It was too easy to imagine how he could have fallen into friendship with Albus despite his better judgment. No one could read Albus quite like he could, and he had only known the man for a month. They were alike. Almost exactly alike, Gellert thought, even if Albus could not admit it to himself.
Gellert knew what Albus felt, and he knew what Albus wanted, and somehow -- somehow, right now, what Albus wanted happened to coincide perfectly with what Gellert wanted, as well.
Gellert closed the distance between them slowly, until there was but an inch between their chests and he could feel Albus's every exhale against his forehead. Gellert's heart beat calm and steady in his breast, completely certain of himself and confident in what he was doing.
"You know I cannot possibly get an accurate fit," he said after several moments' pregnant silence, his voice low and little more than a whisper, his eyes fixed on Albus's, gazing up beneath a veil of golden lashes. His hand reached out to press his palm against the length of Albus's erection, feeling him through the cloth of his trousers, deciding not to hide the flicker of satisfaction that stole across his expression. "Not under these...circumstances."