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Gellert didn’t believe in God or any other Higher Power or any scheme of the universe. He didn’t believe that everything happened for a reason, nor did he believe that anything good would happen to him, if he behaved faithfully. The only thing he believed in, was himself.
He believed he had to work for what he wanted. He needed to plan and to play, to use and to alter, he needed to destroy and to create. He needed to be god. He was the one to make his life. He wasn’t to obey anyone.
And he envisioned his life. He envisioned it in a grand scheme of things, in a grand string of lives and he was the puppetmaster. He was the king of everything and he could make others believe that, too.
He had his way with words, he had found out very early on. He convinced the ladies of the village to give him food, when his mother denied him. He easily talked the girls and boys at Durmstrang into his experiments. He charmed his great-aunt into taking him in, when his mother threw his things out of the window.
He was going to make his visions become reality. He was going to defy death and build an empire and free wizards of the oppression of muggles. He was going to be a young god, the king of everything and he was going to make it all by himself.
That was until he met Albus.
Albus was stunning, startling. He was brighter than the sun and just as powerful. Gellert had never met someone like him. He had never met a kindred soul. It was the most thrilling feeling. He was drunk on greatness, on Albus’ and on his own and most of all on what they shared. They were on fire, they were invincible, they were a natural force, powerful beyond words. Beyond everything Gellert had ever imagined.
Albus was a god, too and a king and an emperor. He was noble and golden and rebellious and trapped. And Gellert was his escape.
Gellert didn’t believe that there were people made for each other. But maybe gods were.
*
They dueled for fun. Albus’ power shook the summer breeze, when his wand lashed through the air. It sent shivers down Gellert’s spine and a hot rush of blood through his veins.
Albus was an expert at transfiguration. He created an army out of nothing. He tamed the beast of nature. He controlled his surroundings as if the world was his marionette. It was exhilarating.
Albus was powerful and clever and he knew it, but he didn’t have edges like him. He wasn’t as cold, as dark inside. Deep down there was hunger for darkness, that much was clear and that probably was, what attracted Albus to him. But he had a kind soul and a golden heart and that remained. An that probably was, what attracted Gellert to him.
They were the same, but they weren’t. They were young gods and kings and emperors, but they were best together. They complemented each other.
It was a curious thing: Love. Albus fell very hard, very fast, that much was obvious. Gellert was not so sure. He wanted Albus, he wanted him in every possible way. He wanted him by his side. He wanted to conquer the world with him. He wanted to fuck him. He wanted to share his secrets with him. He wanted everything from Albus.
But love? Of all the things in the world, Gellert knew least about love. He didn’t even know what it felt like. He found peace in Albus’ arms. His heart pounded fast when they touched. He could hear Albus talk for hours without getting bored and he couldn’t get enough of seeing him come undone, of this young god surrendering to him.
Did he love Albus? He did not know, nor did he care. They were together. They were going to revolt and then they were going to rule and it would be glorious. He certainly loved the idea of that.
*
Albus didn’t consider himself religious. His mum had been, so he knew his fair share about the christian god, but that didn’t mean he believed in him. He was still debating, really. He didn’t need faith, though, to know that Gellert was sin.
Gellert came, saw and conquered wherever he went, so obviously that it didn’t even surprise Albus, when he found himself falling and surrendering. He didn’t need hell to know that Gellert was a handsome devil and he didn’t need heaven to know he was an angel as well. His heart beat so erractic, right from the start, that he just knew this boy would make him a sinner.
Gellert took him to heaven, every time he took him to bed. He took him to hell with every letter he wrote. And he sent him flying with every scheme they planned. He was incredible - he set him free and set him on fire and Albus loved every second of it.
He had always been a dreamer, but his mother’s death had slammed the door of the future right in his face. And Gellert had made him dream again.
He had always been great. He had always been told he would be successful, he would shine and impress and Gellert made him believe in that again. He would be grand, he would be a ruler, he would defeat even death and the whole world would know his name. There was nothing holding him back. There was nothing he couldn’t do. He would do good, nobody would ever have to suffer again like his family had. He would create a better world. He would do everything for the greater good.
*
They had been young gods when they had met and what they had shared, lasted for eternity. Gellert built their empire and Albus destroyed it and when they clashed, they burned so bright, they burned out.
Their names stood forever together in ink and paper, but their earthly legacy was insignificant compared to their divine connection.
They had been young gods. They had been kings and rebels and sinners and devils. And they had fallen from grace and risen up to heaven. They had been magnificent.
*
Albus was already waiting for him, when he crossed over to the other side and he looked just as beautiful as he remembered him.
“Is this heaven or hell?”, Gellert asked at first.
“What do you think?”, Albus said.
“Well, we are here together.”
Albus grinned. “So, this must be Olympus.”
“No.” Gellert shook his head slowly and put his hands on Albus’ cheeks. “This must be home.”