Gellert is measuring silence with his footsteps waiting for Albus in his room. Full moons have the quality of making even sane people go mad, needless to say about mentally ill children. Ariana, the bundle of joy for Aberforth and the source of trouble for two of them, has been preventing them from being together lately, as if she has realised the power Gellert acquired over Albus.
It wasn't the mutual passion that scared her. In fact, as any teenager she's been quite mesmerized by the new sensuality of their friendship. Gellert has been catching her staring at their private moments a couple of times. At such moments he tried to play it up acting as slutty and vulgar as he could - grabbing Albus's crotch while making out with him or touching himself in a seductive manner. Was it his way of claiming his blossoming sexuality, showing Ariana his rightful possession of her brother or a simple wish to give the sick child some visual sexual experiences? Maybe everything at once?
Out of the two sexually frustrated Dumbledores it is Albus that possess his mind right now. One moment he wants him, and Albus touches him all over until Gellert can't resist. Then he suddenly remembers of his dignity or whatever it is that prevents him from fulfilling his desires and runs away leaving Gellert with an apology note. Last one still hurts. Tired of pacing the room, Gellert sits on the bed and takes the letter out. The ink on the paper makes him nervous that he nearly looses his vision. He's been reading the note religiously trying to find anything that'd show Albus's true feelings.
"Gellert, I don't want you to get the wrong impression of me. I hope you know that my upbringing forbids me to engage in such activities. I want us to stay good friends."
Gellert takes a look at his desk and imagines Albus writing this atrocity. He head below his knees and he comes alive with every stroke of every letter of every line he writes. The love letter keeps him awake, so he can remeniscent of his first heart attack. Gellert almost physically felt Albus's reaction when they first met that day. He writes how he needs him, how he wants to touch Gellert by his hand through the parchment, how they light up each other's desire just by describing the mundane things in their casual conversations. The words fall around him all through the night. He can't resist, he doesn't want to fight. He is tired of yearning. His heart burns like hell and he needs to drink the lips of a certain someone. Those words are the truth, so Albus lets them sink in, hold him and twist him. His letter is drawing from above that Albus cruelly rejects. That ungrateful little brat treats that gift poorly and throws it in the trash. Instead of ribbons he puts on shackles on his wrists and writes those blasphemous words. Albus enters the room taking Gellert out of his fantasies.
"What are you doing here so late! I've been trying to get her to sleep for half an hour, the draft for the article is a complete mess and you with your... propositions make me uncomfortable. So, please, send an owl before visiting. I'm not always in the mood to be a good host. " Albus chastises Gellert, pulling him by his arm toward the door.
Gellert ignores his rant and pushes him away. Puzzled by his stubbornness, Albus gives up and finds a way to sit and wait for Gellert to say something overcoming his anger.
"What's your problem?" Gellert asks joining him on the bed and handing him the note back.
Albus takes the note, crumples it up and throws it on the floor as if recognising the mistake of its existence. He leans back against the wall and lets Gellert claim his hand and commences groggily, "I don't know why you're doing it. You know, you bring out the worst in me. Sometimes when I'm around you, I feel like pure evil. I guess they say nobody's perfect, but they've never met a devil like you."
Gellert rolls his eyes from all the unnecessary pathos and sentimentality. He turns to Albus - their heads are so close to each other that Gellert doesn't even have to move closer to meet his confused friend's lips.
"N-no, we can't..." nervously stutters Albus. He grabs a duvet nearby and holds onto it using it almost as a shield from Gellert's desire. Gellert cannot help but grins at Dumbledore's childish war tactics. If love is a battlefield, Gellert will take this prisoner as the honorable trophy.
"I am a great kisser and you already know it," Gellert winks, but seeing how seduction embarrasses Albus even more, makes him change his approach. He drops the playful tone and cups Albus's face, "I wanna kiss you deep. For days."
"Why?" Albus's voice falters.
"Because if you kiss me, then I won't be alone.You know? Alone, alone. And then I'll leave...then I'll go, and...I can have that...I can have that kiss. I can remember that kiss. Because that kiss will be mine. Cause I know that you're gonna touch my soul. And that's really where I need to be touched right now, okay?" Gellert proclaims and, as he speaks, he hates himself for being too sappy.
"What if I can't...touch your soul? Are you willing to take that chance? We're both...you know. I'm tired of having to keep everything a secret. These urges we both have can be overcome," mutters Albus as his knees go weak with guilt.
"I love you, Albus! So love me and let me love you!
My body is not dirty and neither is yours! If you want to be a shameful sinner, then you'll be one! A pious virgin, trapped in his own disgusting body forever! There are so few things to wish for under the Sun...We can make our love anything but dirty. We can give each other something which will make both of us better. Merlin, nothing else matters!" screams Gellert at the boy who's deprived him of peace forever.
Gellert could go on and on about Albus's egoism and cowardice, but once he sees him on the verge of tears, he gives up and heads for the door. His hand touches the handle when Dumbledore warm embrace stops him. His arms tenderly cross on Gellert's chest. Albus rests his head on his friend's shoulder. He doesn't care that his actions don't correlate with his words - Gellert has become an integral part of his life. If Albus has to loose this time around, so be it. Gellert has to stay tonight and forever. No, forever and a year.
"I can't promise you soul kissing tonight. But my bed is yours. Be my guest," shyly proposes Albus to his winner.
"With pleasure," approves his proposition Gellert. He imposingly flops on the bed and suggestively taps the bedspread, inviting Albus to lie down.
In the sweet company of each other they sleep tight all through the night. In the morning they wake up silent, but quite calm and well. The Rubicon has been crossed, and now they won't be bothered neither by Ariana's nightly outburst nor by their own whirlwind of confusion.
