Albus didn't bother with properly banishing Gellert's trousers, satisfied when they simply pooled on the floor. There was certainly no hope of turning back, not with the murky glaze over Albus's eyes as he watched his hand smooth along Gellert's spine. His mouth followed, only moments later.
Albus didn't actually think of students in any depraved sort of fashion. Actually, it was only with painstaking rarity that he even considered someone in a physical sense. That part of himself was simply something he'd been sure he'd lost, along with the remnants of his life. But Gellert- Gellert had a way of making anything sound positively salacious. It was prominent enough when Gellert's English faltered, Albus's cock throbbing just a bit against Gellert's body. When he was truly firing for effect, however, even a banal word like 'professor' could conjure a lust that practically wiped his mind blank.
"Don't call me that," he instructed, just barely getting it out clearly.
There were plenty of things and dozens of labels that stood between himself and Gellert. They hardly needed one more. He wanted this to be about them. He wanted Gellert to use his name, not his title. He wanted to get lost in the idea that maybe they were both still young enough for this to somehow be acceptable. Standing up properly again, two fingers were quickly wet with his own mouth. It simply wasn't in him to ask how long it had been for Gellert, if this bit of preparation was even necessary. Instead, he pulled small, stroking circles about Gellert's puckered entrance before slowly pushing his fingers inside. He couldn't fully bite back the groan in his throat, because it was too easy for his mind to transplant the tight grip of Gellert's body to more demanding regions of his anatomy as he twisted his hand, fingers licking along the hot, slick flesh that he knew just as well as the rest of Gellert's body.