Twice Twenty (2/2)

[berryboys]

Part 1

The Apparition is a mess, arms and legs that collide against each other.

They’re welcomed by an absolute darkness, which added to the abrupt apparition makes Chanyeol lose his balance. Much to his surprise, an arm surrounds and holds him, as though Jongin anticipated him being blown away.

“Lumos Maxima.”

Jongin sounds hoarse as the ball of light abandons his wand and floats towards the roof. Chanyeol barely has time to take in his environment, but he spots what seems to be a bed before he stares back at Jongin again. The man is looking at him, somehow in wonder, and Chanyeol feels his knees tremble at the weight of the situation. It was easier in his head, not now that he’s at Jongin’s house, in his bedroom, and about to give their relationship a great change.

However, Chanyeol finds himself losing the skill to reason as soon as he’s conscious of the closeness. He throws his arms around Jongin’s neck, asking for a kiss, for contact, for anything that results into getting them under the sheets, and the man delivers it.

Jongin doesn’t kiss softly; he’s rough and demanding, as though he’s running out of time. Chanyeol can barely kiss him back, he just receives the bites and tries to entangle their tongues together, a warmness that makes him moan embarrassingly. Even though he has his fingers attached to Jongin’s hair, he doesn’t last a second when he presses himself against his body, searching a friction between his legs that’s cut off by a shove.

Chanyeol falls back on the mattress, and eager, he has already spread his legs apart by the time Jongin hovers over him. He settles himself between his thighs and leans over to suck on Chanyeol’s neck as the younger exposes it, holding back a moan.

“What about the Keeper?” Jongin asks against his skin, hands travelling to undo the cloak and the buttons of Chanyeol’s shirt.

He isn’t sure of what Jongin means, probably because he can only focus on the feeling of his lips tracing patterns down his collarbones. “The Keeper?”

“Byun.”

It sounds more like an angered accusation, which sends a vibration down Chanyeol’s spine; the jealousy is evident in the tone, especially because he’s trapped under Jongin’s body, too much clothes for their liking, and yet the older one still remembers Baekhyun, as if he were a little thorn bothering him.

Chanyeol gasps when Jongin bites him hard in the chest, helping him to get rid of the shirt. “What about him?”

As to reinforce his question, the man unzips his jeans, a big hand slipping under Chanyeol’s underwear. Jongin cups his half hard cock and rubs his hand against it, attentively gazing at him. “What is he going to think about this?”

He's not able to form a response. The Unspeakable removes his bottom clothes, hand pumping around Chanyeol's shaft until it’s swelled and standing. There, completely naked in front of a full clothed Jongin, he’s just a pleading, breathless marionette.

“J-Jongin,” Chanyeol moans, as he tries to reach for the other’s trousers.

However, Jongin swats his hand away, not allowing Chanyeol to touch him at all. His thumb massages across the tip of Chanyeol’s dick, and the younger feels himself jerking up at the teasing. “Answer. What do you have with him?”

He just wants Jongin naked, to grope his muscular thighs while he does whatever he pleases with Chanyeol. He would neglect anyone, even his best friend, to feel Jongin inside him.

“Nothing!” he exclaims, sitting up so that this time Jongin can’t avoid him.

However, the other doesn’t move away now and lets Chanyeol start stripping him, anxious and shaking. Instead, he presses his lips against Chanyeol’s for a fleeting second, making him close his eyes sweetly at the gesture.

“I was going to fuck you anyways,” he smiles a little, biting on his lower lip. “Don’t you see how hard I am?”

Chanyeol sees, in fact. The bulge inside his trousers doesn’t even fit in his palm, and he’s too impatient to be fucked to tease him with clothes on. Jongin observes him in a way that makes him feel very small, as if he were conscious that yes, this pretty young boy would do anything so that he fills him up. At that point, Chanyeol doesn’t conceal it anymore, for he tugs down his pants in one try, heavily breathing as Jongin removes his shirt too.

He becomes speechless as he spots the size in front of him, a swollen cock that matches with Jongin’s lips from all the kissing. He doesn’t need to look at Jongin’s face to know the man is smiling at his reaction, but he watches him regardless when he’s pushed down on the bed again.

Jongin kisses him once more, slowly this time, although his next words are a grumble that doesn’t transmit any patience. “You’re going to scream, yeah?”

It’s not a question or a petition, it’s a confirmation - and a threat - of Chanyeol’s needy state. The lube appears in Jongin’s hands all of a sudden, and the younger merely has a few seconds to be amazed at how easily Jongin throws his charms.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol breathes out, cries.

Jongin darts his tongue over his lips, parting Chanyeol’s legs and passing two fingers around his hole. Being at his whole disposition, Jongin’s cock twitches at the view, but he waits and waits, because there’s nothing better than seeing how Chanyeol’s chest rises in desperate anticipation.

He’s not gentle as he slides the two fingers into him at the same time, holding Chanyeol’s hips down so that he can’t escape from the intrusion. His back arches and a groan leaves his throat, but Jongin’s fingers inside of him are so thick and long that he doesn’t have words to protest. Aware that he might be too uncaring, Jongin slants downwards, allowing him to hold onto his upper body while he works his fingers inside him. Chanyeol throws his head back in a stifled moan, trembling thighs as he fists his own erection.

“I think about this all the time,” Jongin grunts at him as he adds a third finger. Chanyeol whimpers, nails sinking into his back and eyes closed at the sensation. “About having you spread your beautiful legs for me. All the fucking time.”

That finishes any trace of patience that Chanyeol could have. He gathers the strength to support himself with an arm, reaching out to stroke Jongin’s forgotten dick and guide it inside him. The length throbs under his touch and his own body responds by clenching around Jongin’s fingers which, however, slip out of him.

Chanyeol lets go and rests back on the bed as the tip of Jongin’s cock brushes along his hole, warm precum wetting the insides of his legs. He spreads them further, presenting himself completely ready and gaping, shyly moaning just at the feeling of Jongin’s dick against his entrance. He doesn’t expect him to be tender, but he doesn’t expect either the way Jongin shoves his dick into him. He fucks Chanyeol open and deep with only a stroke, hips clashing against his ass and thighs, and Chanyeol does scream.

It burns his insides, but the real fire is in Jongin’s shining eyes. He moves his hips sharply in and out, drawing choked sobs from his pupil when he reminds him. “You knew what you were getting into.”

He knew it and he yearned for it, and even though Jongin thinks he can hurt him, the pleasure is beyond any other feeling right now.

Chanyeol’s ass is full, so are his nerves. Jongin’s movements aren’t irregular or spasmodic, for there’s a maturity and experience in them that turns Chanyeol into a hopeless mess in a blink. They’re steady but fast and hard, and Chanyeol can’t tell when he’s pulling out and when he’s fucking him deep. He’s just being torn apart, the sensations expanding everywhere until he doesn’t know where he is, until he just feels Jongin’s hands, Jongin’s cock and Jongin’s moans.

It’s unnerving how Jongin manages to hit the right spot every time, but Chanyeol doesn’t want to come just yet. He tries to keep his eyes open and memorize his tutor like this: hungry for fucking him after weeks of dreaming about it; with his lips parted, and clear but profound moans emerging from his throat as Chanyeol asks for more, more, more.

Chanyeol can’t help it, because as much as Jongin tries to keep him still, he jolts to meet the long, firm thrusts. That hinders the pace, since he isn’t as well-versed as the older one, but the mere fact that Chanyeol needs to be fucked even harder turns the older insane.

“Shit, shit” Jongin curses out loud. “So tight and pretty.”

Chanyeol’s aware he’s going to come as soon as he hears him talk. Although Jongin hasn’t touched his cock for a second time, he knows Jongin could make him finish like this a thousand times more.

“Cum inside me, please,” wails Chanyeol, and his begging draws a groan out of Jongin, who brutally grips him, rhythm increasing until the bed cracks and Chanyeol is unable to do anything except take his engulfing thrusts. “Please, please.”

He doesn’t need to ask again. Jongin rams into him, this time his body stuttering as his cock pulsates deep in his pupil. Chanyeol, who yanks him down for a sloppy kiss, squirts white right away over his stomach and moans his orgasm out in Jongin’s lips. He clenches around the man’s erection, legs shaking, and that sucks the last defense of his tutor to come. The younger one confines him between his arms to hold him close as he finishes inside him, lips pressed against the vein on Chanyeol’s neck.

Jongin doesn’t pull out immediately, still panting when Chanyeol runs a hand over his almost gray hair, but when he does, he’s tender for the first time that night. After riding out their peaks, there are a lot of things to fear, but Chanyeol fears none. In silence, Jongin rolls over his back before sending him a tired glance, eyes briefly roaming down the younger’s body; he’s covered by his own cum, legs still apart from where Jongin’s cum also leaks. Chanyeol knows it’s a question, though, and he doesn’t hesitate to answer it. He snuggles against his tutor, eyes shut closed and head resting on his chest, and shy smile blooms when Jongin hugs him back.

“Aren’t you a bit old to feel awkward about this?” Jongin questions him the next morning.

They’re both in a muggle cafe because apparently Jongin didn’t have a decent breakfast for Chanyeol or, for that matter, for himself. The young guy wonders why they haven’t gone to the Three Broomsticks or to the Leaky Cauldron, but he suspects the answer won’t be pleasant.

However, the problem is that Chanyeol doesn’t seem capable of staring at Jongin’s eyes for more than two seconds, and it has gotten so obvious that a mocking grin appears on his features.

Chanyeol raises a brow at him teasingly. “I’m old?

Although Jongin points at him with his fork as if it was his wand, there’s a hint of satisfaction in the way he gazes at his pupil.

Dear Mr.Park,

We have received the claim of several witnesses about the breach of the seventy-second article of the Code of the Department of Mysteries yesterday.

Unfortunately, the violation of this article results in the expulsion from the place of work, the Time Room in Mr. Park’s case. The Research Committee of Magic has assigned you to the Brain Room permanently.

The period for allegation will end within ten days from the delivery of this notification.

Sincerely,

Susan Bones, Office of the Department of Mysteries.

“What the fuck is this?”

Baekhyun drops the parchment on the table, the indignation too obvious for him to pretend he doesn’t care about his friend’s expulsion. Chanyeol stares back at him, lips pursed in a pout since he doesn’t see necessary an explanation. They both know what this means.

However, Sehun isn’t so well-informed, for he picks up the letter and reads it again with his eyebrows furrowed. “What is… the seventy-second article?”

Baekhyun’s cat hisses at him when she hears Sehun’s voice, and Chanyeol would laugh at how much his pet seems to hate Sehun if it weren’t that he has bigger problems now.

“There will be no intimate, familiar or friendly links between partners of the same Room,” he mutters, and his throat is so dry that it hurts. “Basically.”

“And of course you had to break it.” The Keeper rolls his eyes, a complaint that isn’t the right representation of what he thinks of Chanyeol and Jongin.

When Chanyeol went back home yesterday, there were three intruders already there. Apparently, Jongdae was aware that Unspeakables had a work dinner that night and, after noticing Chanyeol’s absence throughout the night (“I came to ask you for Lionfish spine, but you weren’t here”), he hurried to call up Sehun and Baekhyun so that they could make an intervention on him.

Baekhyun was happy for him, but Sehun passed two hours straight laughing and asking if Jongin had been able to keep up without an inhaler.

“If you consider you have broken the rule to fuck your tutor, at least they should have assigned you to the Love Room,” Sehun says nonchalantly as he tries to woo away the cat with a kick.

Needless to say, Baekhyun glares at him for the comment, but he also slaps him in the back of his neck because his cat is starting to become aggressive. Even though Baekhyun told Chanyeol once that he may have or may have not trained her to attack Sehun.

“You’re missing the point. Who could know this besides Jongin and me?” It’s a question that has been bothering him since the owl appeared in his window this morning. He doesn’t want to think too much about it, because when he left Jongin’s house he didn’t seem upset or regretful of what had happened. He had given him a goodbye kiss and told him to rest a bit for Monday, and Chanyeol had felt warmer right then than in the bed with him.

“That would be such an ass move,” Baekhyun grunts, ignoring how Sehun laughs at ‘specially an ass move’. “You can tell right off the bat he’s a Slytherin.”

It’s not heartening that neither of them finds weird that he could have asked for Chanyeol’s expulsion. On the other hand, Jongin has no reason to betray him, and the memory of how the man kissed him convinces Chanyeol otherwise. He might be deceiving himself, since Jongin used to go around abandoning naked Gryffindors for fun, but he’s supposed to be an adult now and therefore, not so childish.

“I’m going to talk to him,” Chanyeol announces, getting up from Baekhyun’s couch.

He sends a solid glance towards his friend, nodding, as Sehun squints at him. “Right now?”

“Right now.”

The image of the Keeper and the Beater blurs as he Apparates in front of Jongin’s house. He’s not the type to be this impulsive, but at least he has been rational enough to not Apparating inside the house. Considering Jongin is an Unspeakable, he probably has defenses that could injure him.

He’s about to knock, determined, when the door opens wide and Jongin emerges behind it. Chanyeol jumps back a little, startled, and Jongin grants him with a half-smile. He’s only in a thin tank top and long boxers, which doesn’t help Chanyeol’s concentration at all.

“You have activated the visitor detector,” he explains, pointing at the floor with his head.

Chanyeol flushes red when he spots the magic charm under his feet; he should have realized before, because he’s not one of those ignorant, clumsy wizards, yet he keeps acting like he is. To hide his own embarrassment, he decides to bring up the reason why he’s there, not wasting time to find out if he’s allowed to kiss Jongin or not.

“I’ve received a-”

“I know,” interrupts Jongin right away, although much to his surprise, he grasps his hand and tries to drag him inside. “Come in.”

The younger pleases, but just because Jongin’s skin is soothing and he doesn’t have time to say no. He doesn’t want to refuse either. “How do you know?”

Jongin is an intelligent man. He doesn’t have to ask to realize how agitated Chanyeol is, or to detect the mild mistrust that seeps through his words. It’s understandable, though, because Jongin let him go yesterday without talking about them first, and Chanyeol must be confused because Jongin is a forty-year-old that surely doesn’t have the need to fool around with kids.

“I didn’t say anything,” he sighs, not releasing his hand as he leads him to the living room. “But there were a lot of Unspeakables who saw us kissing.”

This is the real word, Chanyeol notices, where people who are nice to you are the same ones who don’t doubt to out you so that you lose your job position.

Jongin sits down on the couch and pats the cushions next to him, and Chanyeol, with his head down, accepts the invitation.

“They would probably overlook it if you weren’t- Well, if I wasn’t so much older,” the Unspeakable confesses then, correcting himself in time. “People look down upon this kind of relationships, you couldn’t have thought…”

The boy doesn’t allow him to finish. It sounds like farewell when Jongin talks like that, and Chanyeol isn’t disposed to admit it, so he grasps Jongin’s jaw and forces him into a kiss. Jongin permits it even if he barely responds, as though Chanyeol was a petulant boy accustomed to have everything he wishes.

However, when Chanyeol pulls away, there are tears flooding his eyes, and Jongin can’t help the twist in his stomach.

Exhalating, he strokes lightly the younger’s cheek. “Don’t be a baby, Chanyeol.”

“I’m not a baby,” the other protests as he hurries up to sweep his tears away. Jongin is aware of how much he fears to look like an immature kid in front of him, so he just caresses him a bit firmer. Chanyeol breaths deeply, staring right into his pupils. “I really like you.”

They’re silly, stupid words, yet they manage to make Jongin beam up. He has to close his eyes for a few seconds, a smile spreading across his face.

“Alright.” His voice is just a whisper, and all of sudden Jongin is extending an arm around Chanyeol’s neck and bringing him closer. He gazes at him with a tenderness that Chanyeol hasn’t obtained before, and he’s thankful that Jongin doesn’t use on him the paternal touch that would be so easy to apply. “It’s for security. You know the rules, you can’t assist your partner if he’s in danger. Now tell me, what do you think I’m going to do if you’re in danger?”

Chanyeol sounds timid and bewildered when he replies, doubtful expression. “You would help me?”

The response is an almost imperceptible nod, but the meaning of the affirmation is much more than Chanyeol could have imagined. He isn’t sure until which point Jongin is serious about him, because just like the older thinks Chanyeol is just searching for experience, Chanyeol also thinks Jongin may like him because he’s young and unwrinkled.

“And that wouldn’t be so dangerous for me,” continues Jongin, in a so low voice that Chanyeol has to pay full attention to hear it. “But if it’s the other way around, me being in danger, you don’t have any ability to fix it. The Department of Mysteries isn’t a safe place, people die in it constantly, and I’m not going to pull you to death with me if I fall.”

Frostiness is all Chanyeol can perceive, bitter words that shove him into the Time room again, where Jongin seems immortal and where Chanyeol loves him the most.

“You’ve worked for years and you’ve never…”

Jongin presumes what Chanyeol is thinking before he even says a word. The younger one is still oblivious, although not fully, of the differences between them; it’s as if he would rather to ignore them.

“You didn’t see them the other night.”

Chanyeol inspects his face, both curious and confused. “What didn’t I see?”

Despite the humorous way Chanyeol inquires, Jongin doesn’t smile. He detaches himself from the younger and removes his tank top, bare and bronzed skin that Chanyeol immediately gazes at.

But there, the light shines on Jongin’s upper body, and there’s no escape from all the things his body has to tell: the scars are numerous and diverse, some are white and some are pink, most of them are small but there are a few that are pretty wide.

This is this. Chanyeol has suspected that at some point Jongin would try to force him back out, so he’s ready to confront it. He can’t lie: he’s shocked and concerned at the scars, but it’s not a reason to let Jongin run away.

The man brushes Chanyeol’s fingers and then leads them to his chest, where a white mark rests, almost as big as his own hand.

“This was during the Hogwarts battle,” Jongin whispers at him, carefully watching Chanyeol and his reactions. “An Imperius that made me throw myself from the Astronomy Tower. I was dead during two minutes.”

Chanyeol trembles, hand shaking between Jongin’s chest and his hand, yet he keeps himself silent. Jongin moves towards another scar on his hips. “I used to work at the Brain Room. We suffered a terrorist attack in my second day.”

This time, Chanyeol successfully represses the urge to move his hand away, and he’s rewarded by the brief confusion in Jongin’s eyes. He stays still, not scared, because an easily frightened kid isn’t what Jongin needs.

As though Chanyeol is defying him, the other Unspeakable gets up and rolls up the hem of his boxers, revealing the covered part of his thigh. It’s hard to deal with what Chanyeol spots, and the gasp sprouts before he can do anything about it.

Jongin hardly smiles, and it’s a bitter, understanding gesture. “This happened once that the Time cage trapped me. I went back to my eight-year-old form but my right femur didn’t, so the bone destroyed my leg.”

“Stop,” Chanyeol grunts, trying to block that image from his mind. “Stop it already, Jongin.”

Fortunately, Jongin complies after measuring if he has gone too far. He has, indeed, but Chanyeol wouldn’t admit it.

“This is how it is,” Jongin tells him, underwear embracing his thighs again. “We can’t work together because it’s already dangerous enough by its own nature.”

“It’s not about working together, though, is it?” Chanyeol questions, biting his lower lip. He may not want to hear the answer, but he doesn’t retreat now. “Your scars don’t change anything.”

In fact, he’s a bit offended by the fact that Jongin considers him such a superficial person. Scars aren’t pretty, not when they’re the consequence of pain, but they are part of who Jongin is and what he has lived; unlike them, Jongin is beautiful regardless.

“I’m not trying to push you away, if that’s what you think.” Jongin heavily sighs, yet he allows Chanyeol to get closer to him, to put both hands on his waist and find a warmth that it’s hard to get from Jongin. “You told me once you aren’t a kid, and I believe you. And because you aren’t, you have the right to make your own decision and choose whom you want to be with. But it’s important to know where you’re getting into.”

Those words are linked to sex, and whether it’s on purpose or not, Jongin’s images flash through his mind; how it felt to be under him, and to have the older inside him. Chanyeol doesn’t prevent those thoughts from penetrating, because he has no reason to if Jongin isn’t his tutor anymore. Instead, he leans forward

“There’s a difference between sleeping with someone you’re attracted to or with someone you really desire,” he begins, very low, as his fingers graze down to Jongin’s pelvis. He is petrified, but when he gazes into Chanyeol’s eyes, he’s asking him to go on. “You meant it, Jongin. You fucked me like you wouldn’t let me go afterwards, so now you have no option but to keep me.”

Chanyeol passes the days without knowing where Jongin and he stand, or even what they are. Jongin is as quiet as ever, but he listens to Chanyeol like no one has done before. The older man brings him home almost every night, except for certain times in which he looks exhausted. Chanyeol insists to be with him even then, even if they have no sex and Jongin isn’t exactly fond of cuddling. He allows Chanyeol to demand his affections, as though he has no discipline enough to draw the limits, and it’s between Jongin’s arms where Chanyeol spends his best nights.

Jongin shows him beautiful places he has never had the chance to visit, but they’re always alone. The first time they kiss in public, in the Leaky Cauldron, Chanyeol notes the dirty looks sent their way, censuring murmurs and some indiscreet sneers. He doesn’t mind, yet Jongin does; it rages him, and that same night Jongin fucks him harsher than usually, whispering that Chanyeol will regret this sooner or later. They don’t mention the incident the next day or, for that matter, never.

Since then, Jongin always throws disguising charms around them when they go out. Chanyeol wants to protest, and he nearly does until he realizes that it might push Jongin away. He isn’t sure what Jongin is exactly angry at, if it is at the fact that people suppose Chanyeol is clawing on his way up or that Jongin is manipulating him for sex.

“You shouldn’t care,“ Chanyeol murmurs one night to an occupied Jongin, who is playing to avoid Chanyeol’s smooches. He’s completely ignored, though, as Jongin laughs it off as a puerile desire.

He puts up with it. Jongin doesn't talk about their relationship, but he still kisses him eagerly and without hesitation in their intimate moments, and that seems to be enough for now.

Even though Chanyeol is comfortable at Jongin’s house, he also wants the older to pass a few nights at his modest, student dorm. It takes an insane amount of whines until Jongin consents in a very suspectful way, which makes Chanyeol come to the conclusion that he only intended to obtain that bunch of pleas.

However, it’s a mistake. It’s a Friday night after work when they crash at Chanyeol’s, and being the end of the week, students and a lot of workers are free. To begin with, they have to get rid of an annoying Jongdae who keeps appearing at the door with complaints like ‘You promised me you’d teach me to drive those muggle cars last month!’ or ‘do you know Chanyeol and I are the same age? Uncle, that’s gross.’

Jongdae only leaves after Jongin threatens him not to give him any Christmas presents this year, so they’re able to have the first moment for them of the night.

The second problem is the consequence of Chanyeol’s defective memory. He has been spending so many nights out of there that he forgets how Sehun Apparates to check on him without warning, especially the nights before a Quidditch game.

It’s inevitable: the Beater catches them rutting on the couch, Chanyeol rubbing himself against Jongin’s hand as Sehun shouts. “Semifinals!”

His announcement dies as soon as he witnesses the dirty business going on in front of him, the couple turning around to look at him in disconcert, and the Quidditch tickets he’s holding fly out of his hold.

“Oh,” he mutters, wide eyed as he shamelessly stares at Jongin. “Oh.”

Chanyeol sends him a feline grin, climbing out of Jongin’s lap and motioning towards him as to point out - unnecessarily - that he has company. “Sehun, this is Jongin. Jongin, this is Sehun.”

The reaction is more than weird, and it’s a first for Chanyeol to see how Sehun fidgets nervously on his feet, speechless.

“Oh,” he repeats.

The monosyllable is hard to ignore, therefore Jongin starts to develop some kind of pity for his friend. “Does he only know how to say his own last name?”

Of course, as a Quidditch fan, Jongin is able to recognize the Beater’s face even when he’s not on the cover of The Daily Prophet. Sehun looks like he has been slapped with his own bat, so Chanyeol cracks up, throwing his head back in laughter. Until his friend proves that he has more than one word in his vocabulary.

“You’re hot.”
He blurts it out like a teenager in heat, and Jongin rolls his eyes at the compliment, which nearly sounds like harassment, fixing his attention on Chanyeol again. “How many Quidditch players are you friends with? Should I worry, in fact? Oh Sehun is like the new sex symbol for young girls, and he Apparates at your house as if it’s his?”

Chanyeol covers his mouth not to snicker as he answers, a fake innocent façade that seems to work on Jongin. “He told me once he wanted to watch me masturbate.”

Usually, Jongin is competent at reading him, but this time a hint of jealousy strikes across his face without remedy. He gets up, aware of how Chanyeol barely manages to hold his cackles back, and approaches Sehun with a neutral face. A neutral face, which on an Unspeakable can scare the shit out of anyone.

“What?!” Sehun squeals, stepping back to maintain a decent distance between him and Chanyeol’s new man. “I didn’t! Chanyeol, what is your problem, what have I done to deserve this!”

A second later, there’s no one on the spot Sehun was standing, but at least they’ve gained the several Quidditch tickets that have fallen on the floor.

Chanyeol tries to convince Jongin to attend the match with him, but the results are negative. He justifies himself with the excuse that he has to work even in the weekends, and for the first time Chanyeol misses being in the Time Room with him, because that would leave him without space to lie. Of course, they both know it’s a lie, and it’s even more obvious when Jongin tries to make up for it by buying him dinner in a muggle restaurant. Signs of affection, though, are restrained to the dormitory, a limit that transforms any date into a friendly meeting.

Chanyeol hates it. He wishes to hold hands with Jongin in the middle of the street, even if it looks weird; he yearns to kiss him whenever he feels like it and be able to bring him in his nights out with Baekhyun and Sehun. The older always refuses by saying he doesn’t fit into a group of young people, and Chanyeol tries to be tolerant until he finds himself in the same exact situation.

On a Friday night, Jongin doesn’t warn him about the extra visits he’s receiving, so Chanyeol goes to his house just to find a bunch of men and women having dinner in Jongin’s living room.

“You don’t want to be seen in public with me, but you drag me here to meet your friends?” He mutters at the door, acting like a marionette as Jongin helps him to get his coat off.

The question catches Jongin off guard, since he’s sparkling and intoxicated with the pleasant atmosphere. To be so smart, the younger one ponders, he has been dumb enough not to notice Chanyeol won’t adapt to his friends either. It’s kind of heartwarming, however, that Jongin has gotten so used to his presence that he doesn’t hesitate to involve him into all the parts of his life.

“Whatever,” Jongin spats at him, the corners of his lips hardly containing the start of a smirk. “They know I’m with someone younger than me, just not so much younger. Anyways, they’re going to be dead jealous.”

Chanyeol raises a brow at him, amused. “So Mr. Kim just intends to show off his new conquest?”

“Exactly,” Jongin replies, although one second later he’s tasting soft lips that tell otherwise. “Be good?”

Although the tone leaves the option for Chanyeol not to be good, he is. That doesn’t work to delude Jongin into the Quidditch semifinals with him, and days later Chanyeol gets too busy dealing with two certain players on the borderline of an anxiety attack.

“I can’t do this!” Baekhyun breaks out one afternoon, after crying for five minutes straight because his cat has rejected a hug of his. Obviously, Chanyeol regrets having accepted to spend the day before the semifinals at Baekhyun’s: it’s a mad house. “That Zhang Yixing and that Jackie Jernigan are the greatest chasers nowadays, I can’t do this!”

“Baek,” Chanyeol sighs, pressing the heel of his palm against his eyelids. “Jernigan is old, has nothing on you, and Zhang is… well, Sehun can take care of that.”

Nevertheless, Sehun, currently sinking his head in Baekhyun’s tummy to muffle an anguish screech, shakes his head in deny. “I don’t think I would be able to hit Zhang even if he was of the size of an Ukrainian Ironbelly.”

Chanyeol doesn’t realize what his next mistake is until it’s irreparable. He has been hearing this kind of complaints for hours, apart from the whines and the tears, so his brain doesn’t quite function as it should. “Just imagine he’s dating Baekhyun.”

The idea falls into a silence more appropriate of a cemetery or of the victim of the Sleeping Draught. His friends could brush it off as a joke, but they don’t: they’re too tired to carry such an effort like that one, and their fatigue makes them believe in things they usually wouldn’t.

“What?” Baekhyun murmurs, confused, as though he can’t understand the joke.

Hearing his voice, the proof that he’s still alive, Sehun becomes so pale that he looks like he’s going to vomit. “I have to sleep. For tomorrow, because if I don’t then we’ll lose for sure and damn we have trained so much for this Cup, we can’t simply let it go because of Zhang and a bunch of guys that want to date y- I mean, what?”

He obtains no answer, for he apparates before any of the other guys can react to his nonsense. Chanyeol, on the other hand, observes Baekhyun closely as to expect a sudden outbreak that never takes place. Strangely, Baekhyun simply gets up, picks up his cat from the carpet, and strides towards his bedroom with a mere, “I have to sleep too.”

“Aaaand here we have Wimbourne Wasps team, the sensation of the year! Gozda! Sato! Oh! - isn’t that a bigger bat? - Inglebee! Byun! Kowalski…!”

Lee Jordan’s voice keeps blasting around the stadium, but Chanyeol stops listening as soon as he spots Baekhyun swinging onto the field. He’s a yellow, black stain flying towards the goal posts, and probably the one who looks like a wasp the most due to his small frame.

“Puddlemere United goes with Jung! Blancheflower! Liu! Zhang! Kirke! Huang! Jernigan!”

Players of both teams only need three seconds to be in perfect formation. Chanyeol knows nothing about Quidditch, except for the fact that he has to support his friends, but for some reason their opponents are much more intimidating than Baekhyun and Sehun. Or maybe he thinks that because he has seen them in their most ridiculous moments.

The Referee releases the Golden snitch one second later, and Chanyeol follows it for half of a second before it disappears completely. Brooms shoot up everywhere as the whistle sound marks the beginning of the match, yellow and blue figures speeding around the field.

“Kirke! Zhang! Liu! Kirke! Be careful with that Bludger, Sato! Zhang again! Aaaand ten to zero for United!”

Chanyeol flinches at the score, which has been so fast and unstoppable that he hasn’t even caught it. Baekhyun is currently flying around the central post, scowling, and Chanyeol doesn’t miss the way Huang Zitao, the Seeker, passes by him with a malicious smile, as though he’s laughing at the smaller Keeper.

Apparently, neither does Sehun. Zhang scores another goal before the Beater has the chance to find a Bludger to hit, and even though he’s supposed to direct it towards the Seekers or the Keeper of the other team, he doesn’t.

“Thirty to ten!” Jordan continues, snorting onto the microphone. “Damn, guys, you surely want this match!”

Sehun waves his bat and the Bludger changes its direction, spinning until it impacts againts the end of Huang’s broom (Forty to twenty!). The wood cracks and the Seeker nearly falls off his broom, and the crash alters the course of the Bludger, which flies direct to the goal posts. Baekhyun has no remedy but to dodge it, and Zhang takes advantage of the distraction to shoot the Quaffle through the central post (Fifty to twenty!).

Of course, Lee Jordan doesn’t resist the temptation to point out that the goal is Sehun’s fault, since he is more worried about killing Huang than to do his job. “Rumor has it Oh plays for the other team, anyways, if you know what I mean! My wife, sadly, has a huge crush on him bu- And Zhang scores! Sixty to twenty for United!”

Even if Chanyeol shouldn’t be laughing at his friends because they’re currently losing, he can’t help it. Sehun seems to have heard the comments about him and is now frozen on his broom, trying to find the speaker that is talking about his sexual preferences.

“Chanyeol?”

His heart runs out of blood right then, the familiar voice slipping into his ears. At that moment, he’s certain about two things: one, he has to be dreaming, even if it’s his first time dreaming about Quidditch; second, Jongin looks even better right now, which means Chanyeol’s brain may have idolized him a bit.

“Liu’s just learned why Oh’s alias is Grim Reaper! I hope the fall didn’t hurt, lady. Puddlemere United has no Keeper right now, sixty to thirty! Sixty to forty! Sixty to fifty!”

Jongin is wearing a suit, bangs pushed back and a lethal grin adorning his lips. Chanyeol’s eyes linger on him for several seconds before glancing around, nervous, to check if they’re being watched. However, everyone has their attention on the match, and therefore nobody cares if Jongin is going to have his first public date with him or not.

At the silence of the younger, Jongin proceeds to sit down next to him, never tearing his gaze apart.

“Sehun told me you were upset with me,” he explains as he entangles his fingers with Chanyeol’s. The other Unspeakable bites his lip, retaining the urge to ask where and why he has been contacting one of his best friends. Jongin seems to notice, though, because his smile turns sweeter than usual. “And then he started to send me owls with tickets until I promised him I’d come. Do you see that empty zone over there? Well, all those tickets are currently in my bin.”

It doesn’t matter how much Chanyeol fights for expressing himself, he has no words for it. Not when Jongin kisses the back of his hand and stares at his surprised face, as though he doesn’t really care about the match or about Sehun’s threats. He does about Chanyeol, because he gives bit by bit into his requests, putting away the doubts and making an effort for him.

Chanyeol crosses the last boundary while he can (Hundred to seventy!). He looks for Jongin’s round lips, and fortunately, not only Jongin doesn’t pull away, but he also cups his chin to ease himself into Chanyeol’s mouth. It’s a kiss that brings relief and comfort, and due to its meaning, it’s more intimate than ever despite the lack of privacy.

“Thanks,” Chanyeol mutters against his lips.

Jongin plasters one more peck on his mouth before smiling. “For what? For falling in love with you?”

Chanyeol gets struck, knocked down and buried by the confession.

“What?” He practically pants.

Chanyeol forgets where they are and why they came here, his tunnel vision fixed on Jongin’s face as he receives a smirk that only a Slytherin would be able to deliver. Then, Jongin faces the field again, pretending they haven’t had theconversation.

“Baekhyun is inestable on his broom,” he comments, casual. (“Two hundred to hundred seventy!” And Chanyeol realizes he’s missing the action completely). “His legs are weak.”

Dropping his gaze on the tiny Keeper, Chanyeol realizes that Jongin is right. He’s pressing his thighs with more force than normal, full of insecurity and a strange debility, although Chanyeol can’t guess the reason. “What do you mean?”

Jongin leans to the side to whisper into his ear, a small laugh escaping. “I’d say he had sex before the match.”

During the grand final, Jongin, hand in hand with Chanyeol, mentions how it’s Sehun’s legs which wobble this time. Needless to say that, with a Keeper and a Beater about to fall off their brooms, Wimbourne Wasps lose the final.

“I told you, little one,” Jongin reminds him that night, triumphant when Chanyeol relates how Sehun has been panicking after doing Baekhyun in the locker room for the second time. “I know too well when someone is sexually satisfied.”

Slytherins, Chanyeol thinks, naked and covered in love bites as he climbs onto Jongin’s lap to ride him,who understands them.