It was mindshattering, the strength and speed with which Albus was thrusting up into him. Gellert found himself wondering how long it had really been, since Albus had last had sex at all. More than just a month and a half. It felt like years.
And every thrust rammed against his prostate, pushed him harder and rougher against the table, digging a red-hot edge into Gellert's thighs. When Albus's mouth went dumb against his, Gellert stole that opportunity to dig his teeth in hard, tearing at the skin of Albus's lower lip until he could taste blood.
Gellert's entire body tensed as Albus spilled himself into him, Gellert's back pressing tight against Albus's chest, breaking the kiss to let his head fall back, hair tumbling over Albus's shoulder, too enthralled by the way Albus grasped at him to care that his hand had fallen still on Gellert's cock.
He gave him a moment. Two moments, even. He let the last shudders of climax break over Albus's body before drawing away, turning around to face Albus with a perfectly blank expression. Reaching up, Gellert's fingers found their way to curl in Albus's hair, almost as if he was going to pull him down and kiss him again. But then their grip grew tight and Gellert was pushing him down, forcing Albus to his knees -- close, but held at the perfect distance. Just far enough away that, with Gellert's hand holding him back, he could not quite reach Gellert's cock to take it into his mouth.