InsaneJournal

"Kingsley doesn't like hurting me either!" Sirius choked. "It was amazing—I still feel all bruised, so I can get myself off now. But he doesn't want it. I'm not even sure he got hard," he said guiltily. "How could I have him do things he didn't want to do?"

"I very much doubt anyone could make Kingsley Shacklebolt do things he did not want to do, Sirius," said Albus softly.

"I used him, Albus!"

"You did not," said Albus firmly. "Now, did he tell you that he wasn't aroused?"

"Yes," said Sirius miserably. "I said if he'd like to take care of things, I'd love to watch. He said there was nothing to take care of."

"I see."

"I used him. I used him!" Sirius stood and began pacing. "Well, it's not like I'm much of a looker nowadays. Skin and bones now, really, and my face didn't come out well either." He tried to run a hand through his hair, but it got caught in a tangle.

"Stop this," Albus said. "Sit down and stop pitying yourself. You didn't use him. He did something for a friend; you had a great time, as you just said. How is any of this an issue?"

Sirius sighed, pausing before he sat down again, working at the tangle of hair. "I don't feel very sexy. How can I possibly, if I can't even arouse Kingsley Shacklebolt? The pressure of his hand around my prick, Albus, it was like I'd never been touched before. I moaned and acted a right fool, but I would have liked seeing that sort of reaction. He just doesn't like me."

"Perhaps he was aroused, but embarrassed," Albus suggested gently. "Can you see how that might have been the case?"

"Well . . . yes, but—"

"Perhaps his own power frightened him. Power can be a frightening, tantalizing thing."

"That's the problem right there," said Sirius with another sigh. "He's afraid to act like he's using me, except for right during it. I want to feel used, but protected. Does that even make sense?"

Albus hesitated before answering. "Actually, it makes a lot of sense. More than you might imagine."

"You like that too?" Sirius quirked a brow.

"I did, once upon a time. Now, however, I feel rather the opposite."

"You want to feel cared for, yet unprotected? Now that really doesn't make any sense."

Albus looked, for a moment, as if he might correct Sirius as to just what opposite he meant, but then thought better of it, his cheeks flushing slightly. He glanced away from Sirius. "Perhaps you should give Kingsley another chance. I believe you can be rehabilitated. Given time."

"Oh really?" Sirius scoffed, "But, coming from you, it's to be just words and no results. You never do your own dirty work, after all."

"I do when the dirty work suits me," he said quietly. And then Sirius realized what he was implying.

"You'd use me and protect me all at once?" He laughed at the thought, stopping when he noticed the old man flinch. He liked that sudden flicker of vulnerability. "I'd like to see you try, old man," he said, and Albus seemed to sit up a little straighter.

"You set a date and I'll do my best."

Sirius swallowed hard before smirking and replying, "Whenever you can get the night off, Headmaster."

Really, Sirius had no idea what he was getting himself into. What was Dumbledore like in bed? Should he brace himself for so much pain he'd come buckets and he'd pass out from sheer exhaustion? Would the mission be a failure? Would Dumbledore scare him with some deep, hidden power-lust?

It surprised the hell out of him when Albus merely stepped into his bedroom, placed a temporary barrier between Buckbeak's bed and the rest of the room, after bowing to him, and then asked, "What exactly did Kingsley do?"

Sirius had paused to collect his thoughts when an idea came upon him. Quirking an eyebrow he said snarkily, "You have a Pensieve, don't you? So use it."

"Would you like that?" said Albus softly. "Would you like to relive that? I'd like that too. Why don't you get undressed, and I'll be right back?" he offered.

"Fine," Sirius snorted, but stood and began undressing, his pulse quickening with hot anticipation as he lay down on his bed, entirely naked, waiting only a few minutes before Albus came back from the Floo, dusting soot off his robes and grinning.

Conjuring a table to put the heavy bowl on, Albus said, "Take out the memory, Sirius," giving Sirius's body an appraising look.

"Do it for me, old man," Sirius said, in a tone that was both derisive and seductive. He saw Albus take a deep breath in through his nose, ostensibly to calm himself, and cherished the small victory.

"Think about that night. Concentrate on it," he murmured, leaning over the naked Sirius with his wand drawn to pull the memory from him so he could carefully transfer it to the Pensieve.

"That's beautiful," said Sirius, in awe as he watched the silvery strand flutter gently through the air before being gently sucked into the Pensieve's swirling mass.

"Quite beautiful indeed," the old man agreed.

"Not going to leave those on, are you?" Sirius teased, glancing at the large, colorful robe the headmaster was wearing.

Albus raised an eyebrow at the challenge, baring himself to the room just as Sirius had. Sirius sat up, raising a hand to touch the long, silver beard. "That's quite impressive," he admitted begrudgingly.

"If you started now, you might one day beat me," he suggested.

"Nah," said Sirius, shaking his head. "We Blacks may be pretty, but we can't grow beards worth shit." He tugged at his own slight specimen as he slid off the bed. He slinked over to Albus's side and stared down into the Pensieve, grasping an old hand and muttering, "Shall we?"

They entered the memory together. It was Sirius's first time in a Pensieve. He looked at himself objectively, seeming a little dejected at what he saw.

"You look nice, don't you think, Sirius?" Albus murmured.

"I think Kingsley looks better," Sirius muttered darkly, "don't you think, Albus?"

Albus looked at Kingsley and Sirius in the memory for a moment and then said, "No. No, I don't believe he does."

Sirius couldn't help but flush. He turned away from Albus, looking about his own room to hide it. They followed the pair into the bathroom.

"He looks impressive in his Auror robes, though, doesn't he?"

Sirius snorted. "Better than Moody does, at least." He watched with bated breath as he watched himself sink into the tub—not because he was impressed with himself, no, but, because he'd spotted the lust in both Kingsley's eyes and Albus's eyes as Albus glanced for but a moment at his real body, not the one in the memory, and then returned to watching the scene.

"You were never this pale before, were you?" Albus murmured softly, watching memory Sirius explain to Kingsley that it hurt to be in the warm water.

"Yeah, I'll just have to write Azkaban about how they never let me get enough sun in. Could say the same for this place as well."

There was a slightly wounded air to the way Albus was standing now. "But after your escape you spent time out in the sun."

"True," said Sirius. "It was really nice, actually. Not because it was warm, but because it was light. And," he added honestly, a bit more quietly, "I didn't reek of piss and worse."

Albus reached out to stroke his cheek, gauging his reaction to the slight gesture. Sirius smiled a soft, reassuring smile.

"It was the first time I could truly appreciate that."

The two of them both turned their attention to the intense massage Kingsley was giving Sirius.

When Kingsley began running nails over Sirius, scratching him, Albus stepped behind Sirius and gently ran his own nails up Sirius's stomach. A bit earlier, he'd noticed the soft bruising Sirius had mentioned, and it had been quite a stimulating sight indeed. He was half-hard as he began pinching at Sirius just as Kingsley had.

Sirius's pulse was quickening beneath his very fingertips. The groans of Sirius from the memory were so heated that Albus almost felt bad. Kingsley looked as if he were indeed enjoying himself, but Albus was not about to point that out to Sirius. He pressed his lips to the place where Kingsley had marked Sirius's shoulder and licked at it. Sirius practically melted in his arms.

When memory Sirius came, Dumbledore quickly pulled the two of them out of the memory and dragged Sirius toward his bed. He couldn't risk Sirius seeing Kingsley stroke himself off. Kingsley had said Sirius was asleep then. Kingsley had played his part well when Sirius woke.

Albus knew he himself had played his part well too; otherwise the conversation he'd had with Sirius would not have ended up as it did. Yes, it was Albus Dumbledore at his manipulative best. But he really wanted to help Sirius. And he liked Sirius. Therefore, it was fairly justifiable. Or so he figured. Even as he touched that prick Kingsley had been squeezing earlier.

Sirius was moaning and thrashing again, so pleasured it almost looked like pain, and that touched dark spaces inside of Albus that he knew he shouldn't cater too, but still did anyway. If nothing else, he was an opportunist.

He forced Sirius onto his back, taking that prick in his mouth, nipping at it, chewing at it, until Sirius came.

Sirius passed out again, but Albus cast a spell to revive him, stroking himself.

Sirius weakly looked up at him with those big, hazy grey eyes.

"C'mon," said Albus, urging Sirius to turn over. His wand came in handy again as he took proper sexual precautions and stretched Sirius slightly. But not much. He lubed himself, pressing in. His fingers started pinching Sirius's torso like Kingsley had, and he pulled Sirius's hair, and he stretched his arse with his prick, and he pounded into him like he'd wanted to since Sirius was a student.

And by the time Sirius had come again, he was right on the edge. He'd set Kingsley up to it. Poor, stupid Sirius. He thrust just a little harder, driving the man into the mattress.

Was that blood? Sirius's moan seemed to indicate that it was. And with a particularly vicious tug at that tangled mass of disgusting black hair, he came.

Sirius was limp underneath him, but conscious this time, just moaning periodically, and saying, "Merlin," over and over to himself.

Albus cleaned up the damage inside Sirius, while not healing him, and he reached for Sirius. It wasn't likely Sirius could see it as too intimate now he was incoherent with pain's pleasure. Albus could indeed harm him and protect him all at once.

When it was time for him to leave, Sirius grasped his arm weakly and silently begged him not to.

That was the thing about being the one in power. You couldn't give in all the time. Sometimes you had to leave room for hope and desperation.

"We're going to fix you," Albus murmured, gently stroking the bony curve of Sirius's hip, fingering the lovely crack between the cheeks of his arse.

"It's not hurting, Albus," Sirius murmured with tears in his eyes.

Albus gave him one last kiss before he took his leave.

But he accidentally left the Pensieve.