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Gellert runs his fingers through Albus’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp as they pass through the dark strands.
They’re under an old oak tree, shaded from the sun under its large shadow. It’s the first meeting they’ve had in weeks, and they’ve been mostly silent since they’ve sat down. The pair are almost scared to say a word, not willing to shatter the delicate peace they’ve found in each other's presence.
They’ve been doing this for the past year, meeting secretly, away from the prying eyes of Auror’s and other Witches and Wizards that could easily ruin everything they’ve risked to have.
The silence is eventually broken when Albus begins to feel the tickle of something being placed in his hair.
“What are you doing?” Albus asks softly, attempting to turn towards Gellert.
“Don’t.” Gellert says absentmindedly, tilting Albus’s jaw back so he’s facing forward. “I’ll show you when I’m finished.” He says it slyly, and Albus can almost hear the smirk in his voice.
Albus can’t help but smile, obediently keeping still. He focuses instead on the feeling of Gellert’s fingers in his hair. It’s soothing, and Albus has not felt this relaxed in years.
He’s abruptly reminded of his childhood, of warm summer evenings with his head in Gellert’s lap and his fingers in Albus’s hair much like this. Everything was easier then, being able to simply drown in each other with little worry.
Now, even meeting Gellert like this is akin to treason.
He should turn Gellert in, he knows he should, knows that Gellert has hurt so many and will continue to until he reaches his goal.
Yet, he can’t.
He’s being selfish, letting this man roam free because he can’t let him go. But he can’t bring himself to give up these moments, these moments of serenity and peace when they’re just calmly sitting together. There’s no arguing, no yelling, no death and blood on Gellert's hands, just them and their own breath. No one and nothing else exists outside the bubble of them.
He wouldn’t trade these moments for anything else.
“Finished.” Gellert announces triumphantly, sounding far too pleased with himself.
He places a mirror in front of Albus and it floats ambiantly in the air. Albus almost gasps once he sees the golden flowers intricately intertwined into his hair. He’s lost in a memory again, remembering similar moments of their youth. His hair was longer then, curly and auburn, but with the same flowers placed in them.
“You did this when we were young.” Albus grins, tentatively touching the petals.
Gellert was always so much more tactile with Albus than he was with anyone else. They were always touching, even in public where they risked ridicule. A portion of it was probably contributed to their age, young and in love, but Albus held onto ever small touch, every little gesture. They would hold hands, let their knuckles brush when they passed each other, a hand flitting over a waist or placed on a shoulder. And, of course, Gellert played with Albus’s hair for what felt like hours on end as they talked or maybe as Albus read a book.
He holds onto every brush of skin even more now, never truly sure when he’ll get to experience it again.
“And you look just as beautiful as you ever did.” Gellert says as he smiles, his genuine one as he places a fleeting kiss to Albus’s cheekbone.
“You’re far sappier than anyone gives you credit for.” Albus is still smiling, cheeks almost hurting with the radiance of it.
“Only for you liebling.” Gellert says, placing another feather light kiss to Albus’s jaw.
The mirror eventually dissipates and they’re left in a fragile silence, Gellert’s head resting comfortably against Albus’s shoulder as one of his hands rub up and down Albus’s back. The only sound is their breathing, and it’s so easy to pretend they’re just teenagers again. When it’s just them, with no labels or expectations, just the heat of their bodies as they try to stay as close as possible to each other, they can pretend this is all there is to think about.
Just each other.
It, of course, does not last much longer.
“Join me.” Gellert whispers, as he does every time they meet. There’s hardly any real belief that Albus will say yes behind it anymore, but he tries each time anyway.
“You know I can’t.” Albus whispers back, the words thick with the bitter sweetness of it all. He answers this way each time, too. (He’s unwilling to tell Gellert that it’s becoming harder and harder not to just give in and say yes).
“I do.” Gellert presses his face into Albus’s shoulder, inhaling deeply as if he’s trying to memorize his scent.
Gellert’s head eventually lifts up again and he places a lingering kiss to Albus’s cheek, and when he pulls back Albus chases him. Albus catches Gellert’s lips in his, the tingling he feels in his gut each time never fading even after all these years. It’s slow and chaste and it somehow feels like a promise. Of what, Albus can not say.
When they pull apart they’re both breathing deeply, aware of what’s going to have to happen soon. They will need to separate again, and they will not see each other for a few more weeks or perhaps even months. But they can stay here, be with each other just a little while longer.
“When do you think I’ll see you again?” Albus knows Gellert probably won’t know, but he wants to be reassured even if it’s with half truths. It’s becoming harder to say goodbye when all he wants is to stay tangled up in Gellert for the rest of eternity.
“I’ll return to you as soon as I can, mein Schatz.” They’re facing each other now, and there’s a gentleness to Gellert’s voice and face that seems sincere. He’s become so much harder to read, but Albus hopes that Gellert cherishes these moments just as much as Albus.
After another bout of silence, one of Gellert’s hands come up to Albus’s cheek, cradling it. “Would you marry me?”
Albus jerks against Gellert’s palm, not trying to pull away but almost reeling back in his shock. His throat is suddenly dry and his mouth sticky, “What?” He manages to choke out.
Gellert’s other hand comes up to the opposite side of Albus’s face, encasing it between his palms. “Would you marry me?”
“But- we couldn’t, Gellert, it’s not even-” Albus feels as if he’s about to cry, his eyes stinging dangerously. He blinks, trying to hold back his tears.
He looks into Gellert’s eyes, and they’re vulnerable, wide and almost scared and Gellert isn’t scared of just anything. Albus inhales shakily, lets the breath out just as wrecked.
And he could kid himself that he needs to genuinely think about it, could pretend that he had any sort of comprehensible thought process behind his inevitable answer. He could pretend that he was strong enough to say anything else other than, “ Yes. ”
Albus laughs wetly, “Oh Merlin, Gellert, I would have married you as a young boy if we could have. Yes. ”
Gellert smiles, leaning in and kissing every inch of Albus’s face. Albus is giddy with affection, and he should be too old to feel giddy but Gellert was always good at making him feel things he shouldn’t.
“Was that you’re proposal?” Albus laughs as Gellert finally pulls away, leaving Albus’s face with the phantom feeling of his lips all over it.
“Perhaps.” Gellert purses his lips, “Are you willing to accept?” There’s a hint of doubt in the statement for all of Gellert’s cocky bravado, as if he should truly doubt Albus would deny him.
“Obviously.” Albus pulls Gellert against him, wrapping his arms securely around his neck. They sit like that, letting the seconds tick by in their happiness, the sun setting around them.
“Where did this come from?” Albus asks curiously, pulling away enough so that he can see Gellert’s face.
“Well, our time is short.” Gellert says regretfully, and Albus sags just a bit. He knew this, that they can’t do this forever, that eventually Albus will have to pick a side. But hearing it from Gellert makes it so much more real.
“I want to have you, in any way that I can.” Gellert whispers, placing a comforting hand over Albus’s where it’s resting on Gellert’s shoulder.
“I would argue that you already do.” Albus smiles weakly, leaning his forehead against Gellert’s.
“Then you could also say you already have me.” Gellert whispers against Albus’s lips. “And it would be private, just us.” Gellert says thoughtfully, allowing his thumb to trace mindless patterns across Albus’s knuckles.
“It wouldn’t be official, or even legal.” Albus mutters, and Gellert huffs a quiet breath.
“Nothing about our relationship is legal, dear.”
Albus laughs, and is delighted when Gellert joins in. Gellert doesn’t laugh too often, and each time he does Albus feels some sort of pride when he allows himself to.
“A private ceremony would be nice.” Albus eventually concedes, once they’ve both calmed down. “We could even get rings. Though, it may be suspicious if professor Dumbledore begins to wear the same ring as the oh so terrible Gellert Grindelwald.”
Gellert chuckles, and Albus feels a curl of excitement in his gut at the sound. “You could just tell them I have good taste.”
“More like you’d be copying me .”
“Oh now we know that’s completely implausible. The things you wear, Merlin .” Gellert catches Albus’s hand when he goes to playfully swipe at him. “ Purple? Really Albus? I should burn every dreadful thing in your closet.”
Albus gasps in mock offense, “ Excuse me , purple is a wonderful colour and I will not allow you to tell me otherwise.”
“Whatever makes you feel better, love.” Gellert intertwines his fingers with one of Albus’s hand. “Though it does look much better on you than it would anyone else.”
Albus most certainly does not blush. “I’d say anything looks good on me.”
Gellert hums, pretending to think just to annoy Albus, and Albus hits Gellert on the shoulder with his free hand.
“You’re an arse.” Albus complains, trying not to smile. He doesn’t think he even remotely succeeds.
“That’s no way to speak to your future husband.” Gellert says playfully, placing a kiss on Albus’s knuckles.
This time Albus will admit he blushes at the comment, a vibrant one he can feel all the way down to his chest. Husband.
“Husband.” Albus repeats, no louder than a soft breath.
“Oh Liebe,” Gellert’s thumb comes up to Albus’s face, wiping a tear Albus only notices because it smears across his cheek.
“I’m sorry.” Albus scrubs at his face, feeling a bit embarrassed. But husband. Gellert as his husband.
“But,” Albus stops to clear his throat, unable to meet Gellert’s eyes. “Are- are we truly getting married?”
Albus thinks he wants to, no he’s sure he wants to. He wants this man in his life again, he wants to have this with him. But somewhere deep inside of him he wonders how this could actually work. How could they have this when they’re in such different worlds? Merlin, Gellert is considered the greatest threat to the Wizarding world and Albus is fantasizing about sharing his bed with him, about sleepy mornings and soft kisses and getting married.
“Albus look at me.” Albus begins to shake his head, “Please.”
Albus swallows thickly but obliges, lifting his head to meet mismatched eyes. It almost feels like he’s looking into them for the first time again, he feels the same fluttering of nervousness and excitement and apprehension all in one second that he did when he was only seventeen.
“I love you, Albus. I want to marry you, I want you in any way that you could ever imagine.” Gellert pauses, blinking away what looks like tears. “But there is no need to rush this, no need for you to come up with an answer right this instant.”
“But you said-” Albus attempts to argue but Gellert is already shushing him.
“I’m aware of what I said, we don’t have as much time as I’d like, but you can have what time you need for you to think.”
“Wouldn’t you rather just whisk me away and take the time you want?” Albus says, attempting a smile he thinks is mostly successful.
“I’ve thought of it.” Albus laughs and Gellert answers with a slight quirk of his lips. “But it’d be no fun unless you’re willingly with me.”
Albus chuckles, and squeezes Gellert’s hand that’s still in his. He looks over Gellert’s shoulder and sees the moon already fully up, casting light over Gellert’s form.
Albus sighs, disappointed as he turns his attention back to Gellert. He had stayed longer than he had meant to. “You should leave soon.”
“Kicking me out already?” Gellert says, but he also looks disappointed.
Albus leans in and kisses him, just a bit more desperately than he means too. Gellert isn’t bothered by it, placing a hand on the back of Albus’s neck and responding with the same sort of intensity.
They’re almost panting when they finally pull apart, and Albus smiles despite being upset.
“We’re getting married, I want to. Definitely.” Albus confirms.
“If you’re sure.” Gellert answers, placing one final peck on Albus’s lips.
“I’m sure.” Albus says, and he believes it. There are things to be talked about, things that are probably going to have to drastically change, but he ultimately just wants Gellert.
There are things he’s not confident about, but he’s sure of Gellert, and he’s sure he wants him.
“Goodbye.” Albus whispers, hesitantly pulling away from Gellert as he begins to stand.
Gellert follows suit, “Goodbye love.” He smiles one last time, and then he’s gone.
———
When Albus is back in his office at Hogwarts, he catches himself in the mirror. The flowers are still in his hair, almost glowing in the darkness. He carefully takes one out and places it on his desk. He puts a spell on it to keep it from wilting, and allows his students to speculate on who had given it to him.
He finds a mild sort of amusement in knowing no one would be able to guess it’s from the infamous Gellert Grindelwald.