He couldn’t remember the number of times Dad had said to him, ‘Albus is your little brother. You always have to look out for him.’
Perhaps that lesson had been so beaten into him that now it was ingrained into his psyche, chiseled into his bones. Perhaps that’s why James followed Al when he realized that, for the millionth time, Al wasn’t in his room.
Where did he always sneak off to? And why did he get so angry when James asked?
They weren’t little kids anymore, so James really didn’t have to look out for Al. It wasn’t actually his job, even though he had thought of it that way growing up. And anyways, Al could very likely take care of himself.
But still… chiseled…
It was handy he was an Auror trainee and knew tracing spells.
Except the place it traced Al to was the last place James expected him to be. Ever. In fact, he didn’t believe it. Maybe the spell was bad, or he miscast it or spoke the incantation wrong. But it kept taking him to the same place no matter how many times he tried, and James ended up standing at entrance, balking. He didn’t go in, of course; Al might see him. Instead, he went home and waited on the sofa. But as the hours ticked by and Al still didn’t come home, James dozed off on one of the cushions and didn’t wake up until the sun shone blindingly through the window of their flat.
A glance at the front door confirmed Al was home; apparently he had tossed his grubby trainers underneath the coat rack when he came in. Something unwound in James’ chest with the knowledge that Al was home safe and sound, and he didn’t realize just how uptight and worried he had been until that very moment.
James plodded to Al’s room, smiling at the sight of the blanket-covered lump on the bed.
“Oh, Albus,” he sang, jumping bodily onto the bed and making Al’s blanket fall away, exposing his grumpy, sleepy face.
“Stop that,” Al whined, pulling the blanket back up to his neck and cuddling into it.
James wrapped an arm around him and Al cozied in closer. He put his face into James’ chest and stilled, breathing through his mouth. James didn’t even mind the damp patch starting to form on his t-shirt.
“You were up late, weren’t you?”
“Where were you?” Would Albus finally tell him?
James shook him, causing him to yell and flail. “Tell me where you were,” he demanded.
“Fuck off, Jaime!” Al punched him in the stomach, but since he was not entirely awake, it was more like a limp slap.
“You know it worries me when you disappear and I have no idea where you’ve gone.”
“You’re not my bloody mother. I don’t have to tell you anything. Besides,” he sniffed, closing his eyes again and cuddling back into James’ embrace, “I’m 17 now. I can do what I like.” He threw his arm over James’ stomach and after a few moments, his breathing was that steady, asleep kind. His hair tickled James’ neck.
James lazily traced Al’s arm as he sat there getting sleepier himself. Al’s skin was smooth and warm. One time Al’s best mate Scorpius had walked in on them sharing a bed. It was over summer break when Scorpius had been visiting. One night, uncle Ron got drunk and couldn’t Apparate home, so he had a kip in Al’s room, and Al had snuck into James’ bed; the sofa had been lumpy, apparently. They did it all the time, so James didn’t mind a bit. But Scorpius—having taken residence in the guest room—woke up the next morning looking for Al and had found him under James’ covers. That was the first time anyone had made them feel weird about it.
James realized he was squeezing Al’s arm so hard it was turning white.
He grabbed Al by the waist and flipped them over so James was on top and Al on his back. Al’s eyes opened wide at the sudden movement.
“You’re not going to let me sleep, are you?”
“Not until you tell me where you keep sneaking off to.” Albus tried to sit up but James pinned him down again. “Sod it, I already know.”
Albus rolled his eyes. “No you don’t.”
“Just tell me why you’re hanging out at The Two Wands every night.”
Albus’ mouth fell open. His cheeks seemed to instantly drain of color. It was a seedy place to be caught at, so James couldn’t blame Al for being embarrassed. It was not a place one discussed in “polite society” or at family dinners. But everyone knew about it, and most gay men had been there at least once.
At The Two Wands, there are no sins.
“How did you… You followed me.”
“If you’re worried about me knowing you’re a poofter, don’t worry, I don’t give a shit about that. I’ve always known anyways. It’s just…” James didn’t know why his heart clenched painfully at the idea of Albus with some anonymous stripper.
“James, I can explain.” His voice was shaky and small.
“No need.” James forced a shrug, though he felt anything but nonchalant about it. “You can fuck whomever you want. It’s none of my business whether it’s some bloke from school or some stripper.”
Albus’ shoulders lost their tension and he quit resisting James, letting himself be pressed into the mattress. “I’m glad,” he exhaled.
James put his hand on Al’s waist, tracing it with his thumb. Al’s t-shirt had ridden up and the warm skin was velvety under his touch. He wondered what kind of blokes Al fancied. Which one of those dancing, hip-gyrating boys got Al’s attention?
“That feels nice, Jaime,” Al murmured, his eyes shut again. James continued to massage his bare stomach.
“What do you like?”
“Hm? I like that…” Al smiled as James continued rubbing.
The words sort of stuck in his throat, but James forced them out; some sick part of him wanted to know. “No, I mean, what do you like when you go to the Wands?”
Al tensed again.
He didn’t know why he cared. Maybe it was that same ingrained mantra beating against his skull urging him to look out for Al—he didn’t know any of these men; what if one of them became obsessed with Al and started stalking him? Al was a cute kid, with those gorgeous big eyes and puppy dog pout. James didn’t know what kind of perverts there were out there, just waiting to prey on a hot young thing like Albus.
“Do you like blokes your age, or do you like them older? How much older? Do you like blonds—” an image of Scorpius Malfoy came to mind and James felt momentarily sick “—or brunettes? Facial hair or no facial hair? Tattoos?”
Al cut him off. “Why do you want to know?” A thin frown formed on his face. “You’re just making fun of me.”
“I’m not!” When Al rolled his eyes, James added, “I promise I’m not. I’m just curious, is all.” He stroked his thumb back and forth over Al’s belly button, playing within the dip of it. Al’s breath hitched and got shallow. It was probably nerve wracking to admit his preferences, though James had no idea why he’d be nervous around him. He couldn’t deny that it stung a bit. They told each other everything, always had.
“I like,” Al started, pausing a moment to think, “strong hands. I like muscle in all the right places. Dark hair.” He looked up at James then. “Warmth, playfulness, confidence… All those things turn me on.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
Something hard began to press against James. Ha!
He smirked and rolled off of Al’s body, hopping onto the floor. “You should probably take care of your morning wood.”
Al blushed furiously. “Well it would be really helpful if you got out of here.”
“Yeah, I was just about to.” James slapped him lightly across the cheek. Then he dodged Al’s pathetic attempt to slap him back and laughed on his way out. When he got to the door, Al called to him.
“Yes?” He turned to see Al had covered his face with a pillow.
“Shut the door.”
He had been waiting two hours since then and the queue was still long as fuck. It was nearing two in the morning. He had never called patience his strong suit and it was a wonder he’d even waited this long. What was Al doing in there for so long? Surely he’d shot his load all over some nameless stripper by now, so what was he hanging around in there for?
James set his jaw and decided that if Al wasn’t coming out, he was going in.
What he was hoping to see, he had no idea. Perhaps he was just bored waiting around in the chilly weather watching all the pervs make their way in one by one. Or maybe he simply wanted to catch Al off guard, to laugh at the stupid, surprised look on his face when he saw James in there. He smirked at that last thought.
A small part of him was shouting to simply leave Al alone, that Al was right when he had insisted he was of age and could do whatever he liked. But James told that part of himself to shut up because Al was only seventeen and he was still his little brother.
So he canceled the spell, put his hands in his pockets, and walked up to the same bouncer who had so easily let Al through. He ignored the aggravated yells and curses of people telling him not to cut the queue.
“Back o’ the line,” the bouncer said, barely giving James a passing glance. Probably loads of cocky lads tried to bribe or hex him into letting them pass.
James reached into the inner pocket of his coat—the bouncer did notice that and held up his wand—and pulled out his Auror training badge. It had the Ministry seal on it as well as the logo for the DMLE, and this halfwit wouldn’t know the difference between a trainee badge and an official one. And just as he thought, the man raised his eyebrows, lowered his wand, and stepped aside.
Trying not to feel too pleased with himself, he passed through the antechamber-type corridor and into the club proper. The music was deafening in there, and the dark blinding. Neon lights created eerie pools of color over the faces of lusty spectators. Like a moth to flame, James’ eyes were immediately drawn to the bright spotlight that lit up the middle of the room: a platform and a pole, and a beautiful blond boy with a beautiful body swaying his hips in a mesmerizing fashion.
Around the platform, the men watching him held half empty drinks, some rubbing themselves casually over their trousers. Most were in their early forties by the look of it, not that he got that great of a look in the dark. But where was Al?
James weaved through clothed patrons and half-naked “waiters”. One of the naked boys got in his path.
“Can I get you something to drink, sir?”
“A scotch? A Firewhisky?” The boy looked up and down James’ body, then hopefully up at his face.
“No, I erhm…” James cleared his throat. The boy was fit, but James had never been with a bloke before—not that he hadn’t thought about it—and he wasn’t here for that. It would be so easy to get distracted. But the boy stood so close and he was so naked, James’ cock took notice. “I’m looking for someone. Are there any more rooms to this place?”
The boy smiled. “You mean, like private rooms?” He sauntered up even closer, pressing his chest to James’, and traced down the center of James’ shirt with his finger. “I could show them to you if you’d like.”
James swallowed. For a moment, he seriously considered what those lips might feel like on his cock.
“Oh come on,” the boy whined almost prettily. “If miraculously we get a hot client come through these doors, I make sure to get my hands on him.” He was good with flattery, this one. “Don’t worry about whatever it is that’s so clearly worrying you. Are you hiding this from your girlfriend? That’s not a problem… Don’t you know there are no sins here?”
Despite his growing interest down below, James lightly held him back. “I’m just looking for my… friend.”
“Maybe he’s around having some fun with someone special. Shall we go find him together?”
As they walked through the private section, a long hallway lined with doors, James realized there were windows looking into each of the rooms. In some, the curtains were drawn, but in others, anyone could look through and watch. Some windows had amassed a small crowd of voyeurs either wanking or quietly observing the show.
“Perhaps your friend is with one of the boys in here?”
“Perhaps…” James scanned the rooms as they walked by. Was Al in any of them? Maybe the boy was right and Al was having a private session with someone. Maybe that’s why he was taking so long. Or maybe he fancied one of the boys who worked here and that’s why he came back night after night. He imagined Al emptying his pockets on some pretty boy, hogging all his time so that no one else would get a chance at him.
The thought caused an uncomfortable lump to stick in James’ throat, along with a surge of inexplicable anger. He had always hated when Al had crushes, or even super close friends. Had ever since they were kids. He went complaining to Dad once that Al was hanging around with Scorpius too much and never wanted to go flying with James anymore. Dad just chuckled and said James was being jealous, that he was afraid he was going to lose Al. ‘But don’t worry,’ he’d always say, ‘you and Al are brothers. Nothing will ever take that away.’
James couldn’t get around the crowd that hoarded in front of one of the windows. Men stared with their mouths open, some pulling on their cocks through their unzipped trousers. Mildly disgusted, James turned away from them and peered through the window. He didn’t understand the mass appeal; it looked like every other scene he’d passed thus far: a man on the bed, a naked boy entertaining him. Except this boy was wearing a mask over his eyes.
“He’s a fan favorite, as you can see.”
The boy’s movements were deliberate, energetic, like he fully enjoyed what he did. He faced the window and stood with his back to the client, swaying his hips back and forth. James suddenly wished he were the one who got to view that pert arse bouncing up and down in front of his face. Still, the front of him was delicious as well. He was young and fit, with a slim waist and a flat, toned stomach. His black thong left little to the imagination, outlining his cock and exposing his pert arsecheeks.
He was interesting. Maybe it was the mask, making him so much more anonymous than all the rest of the boys. Just a plaything for hire, a pretty boy with pouty lips.
Wait a minute.
James knew those pouty lips. He would recognize them anywhere.
The boy raised his head, and their eyes met. He instantly stopped dancing, his entire body frozen. Fear and shock shone clearly in his eyes.
James clenched his fists tight, trying to control the crazy, heady rush of emotion that poured through him and gripped him right in the chest.
That was Al, his Al, dancing in there. That silly mask couldn’t hide a thing. Not from his own brother.
James shoved past his companion (who yelled, “You can’t go in there when there’s a session!”) and pushed the spectators out of his way. Nothing was keeping him from that door, from Albus.
The man inside looked up with a scowl. “Hey, what are you doing? This is a private party, mate.”
“Get out,” James said, trying hard not to reach for his wand. But he was more than prepared to use it if he had to.
The man got onto his feet. “Listen here—”
“You listen.” James’ wand was on the man’s throat before he could blink. “Your session is over. If you have a problem with that, take it up with the DMLE.” He flashed his badge again and relished in the way the man’s eyes widened and his scowl softened.
He put his hands up. “Not looking for any trouble. All that’s not worth a fuck.”
James locked the door after it slammed at the man’s back, then he turned to Al.
He didn’t know where to start with him. He wanted to yell at Al for his stupidity, but also take him in his arms and beg him to explain why. He felt both guilty and glad about how scared Albus looked. His hands trembled by his sides as he gaped at James.
“Why?” was all that came out.
Al blinked through his mask. “James… I…”
Someone banged on the window from the other side. A muffled, “Dance!” was shouted, as clearly they were hoping to see the rest of the show. James flicked his wand and drew the curtains, eliminating their nosy faces.
“James, I’m sorry.”
The music from the main room reverberated in low vibrations. Boom, boom, boom. James looked Al over, from his mop of hair down his naked body. The bass vibrated up through James’ feet through his legs and seemed to caress his cock.
Al reached for his mask.
He stared at James, his eyes unsure and questioning.
“Keep it on.” James sat down on the edge of the hard, thin mattress. His cock felt heavy, an aching hardness between his thighs that would soon need to be freed, and he spread his legs. “Well?”
“Aren’t you going to at least finish your dance?” He swallowed. “That’s what you’re here for, aren’t you: to dance?” A sick curiosity overtook him, and he wanted to see what the others saw. It was his brother, and all those paying strangers got to watch him. Well James wanted to watch him too. The desire clung to his chest like a weight of guilt, but it also stroked his cock so deliciously he didn’t have the mind to resist. “So go ahead. Dance for me.”
“Are you… are you serious?”
“You’re not angry?”
James set his jaw.
“You look really angry. I can explain if you just want to go—”
“I said,” his voice rang clear and firm, “dance.”
Albus looked at him for a moment before closing his eyes. When he opened them again, there was a dark look there. He began to move.
First slowly, like he was testing the music, letting the beat control the sway of his hips. When he got into a comfortable rhythm, he turned around.
The sight of his arse moving like that… James’ cock went from half hard to straining against his trousers. He grunted, clearing the tightness in his throat, as he shifted on the bed and rested a hand over his cock. Over the fabric, he traced his fingers lightly back and forth over the length. And he continued to watch.
Al came closer, placing his hands against the wall opposite the bed and swaying his hips only an inch from James’ lap. His arse cheeks shook with the motions, and it was the most erotic, mesmerizing sight. Al moved his arse faster and faster, shaking it in James’ face.
A low groan escaped James’ throat. His cock leaked and created a wet spot. He ached to grab ahold of that perfect round arse.
Then Al turned around and faced him.
He looked down at James through the mask, his eyes bright. As he scanned James body, he dipped into a squat, his face millimeters from James’ hardon. His breath was hot even over the trousers as he hovered there, staring at James’ erection. Just when James thought Al might close the tiny distance between his mouth and James’ cock, Al stood back up, swaying to the music once again.
James wanted him.
He knew it somewhere deep in his core; he had to have Al tonight. He had to touch that gorgeous body, which he’d touched so many times but never in the way he wanted to now. They would deal with the issue of Al’s secret later, but for now, he needed Al all to himself.
He grabbed Al’s arm, ignoring Al’s intake of breath, and pulled Al on top of him. Al fell into his lap, one leg around each hip. His naked skin was so warm and smooth.
James kissed him.
He didn’t care what it meant. He didn’t want to think about that. He only wanted to think about how right it felt pressing his lips to Al’s, how desperately good it felt when Al kissed him back like he had been forever hungry for this.
“We’re going home,” James said, his voice scratchy.
Al nodded and pressed their foreheads together.
“James,” Al said in a needy moan. It shot fire straight through James’ body.
Head dizzy from lust—or maybe a side effect of the Apparition, or maybe both—James looked down at his little brother lying underneath him. He grunted with dissatisfaction and pulled off Al’s stupid mask.
Al was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, his face pink with exertion and pouty lips wet from kissing. James’ cock stirred just looking at him.
He tried to imagine they were still at the club, in the dark, in that seedy windowless room where this seedy act belonged. Why had they ever left? It had seemed like a good idea at that time, when James wanted to rescue Al from Wands, but now that they were in his bed, in this very real place between his very familiar sheets, the guilt started to grow like a weed. Perhaps he should have left that mask on, and then he could pretend this wasn’t his own brother he was hard and aching for.
No sins, no sins, no sins. The boy said there were no sins tonight.
“Are you mad?” Al asked. His eyes were shining with worry now, his brow creased in the middle. James had been silent for too long. Did his apprehension show in his face, he wondered? Was he looking at Al with disgust?
God, he hoped not. Because Al was the least disgusting thing in the world.
“I’m disgusting,” James breathed. His shame was definitely not aimed at Al.
“No.” Al reached up and ran his hand through James’ hair. “Don’t even think that.”
“I shouldn’t want you so bad.”
He felt Al’s heart pounding in his chest, and Al’s hand fell to James’ cheek. His legs tightened around James’ hips like he was trying to trap him.
“But don’t you see?” Al said, his grip firming. “I want you, too.”
A wave of relief cut through all the other shit James was feeling, and he breathed in deeply. “All I’ve ever wanted was you,” he said softly.
Al closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he wore a shadow of a smile. He reached down and pulled on James’ shirt. James let him pull it off, letting go of Albus’ only for the moments it took to wriggle out of it. Then came the trousers, and Al unbuttoned and unzipped until he could push them down James’ hips.
His little brother was undressing him.
His little brother was naked with him in bed.
James loved him so much. That was all he knew for certain right then, all he could feel coursing through his body and beating through his chest. His love for Al was like nothing he had ever felt. It was so all-consuming.
Al was breathing hard. He was probably scared, like James was; this was positively mad. Al looked at him with wide eyes, like he couldn’t believe what was happening. Then, with a hand on the back of James’ head, he pulled him down and said in his ear:
“Take these pants off me and fuck me.”
James groaned, his cock stiffening instantly. He gladly did as suggested, tugging the thong off and pulling it down Al’s legs. Al’s cock was hard and hot against James’ stomach. He gripped it for a moment, until Al spread his legs again and James’s hands went right to his arse. He squeezed it
“Accio lube,” Al muttered, and it flew into his outstretched hand. James grabbed it from him.
When his fingers were more than fully coated, he reached down to find the wrinkled skin of Al’s arsehole. He played with it just for a little bit, just for his own pleasure, circling it with his index finger and feeling the soft skin there.
Al moaned and bucked his hips. “James… Please!”
God, he loved hearing that.
Al shut his eyes and spread his legs wider. James stuck just the tip of his finger in, and his heart sped up when he felt how tight it was.
“James! More… James, I want you to fuck me.”
Something snapped inside him and he almost growled. He decided he loved this whimpering, desperate Al. “You want me to put it in you?”
“Yes! Ah, yes, please.”
James slowly pushed his finger in. It was so fucking tight. He imagined all that pressure around his cock... James groaned deep in his throat as his cock twitched a little at the thought.
Al breathed hard as James fucked him with his finger. His hips bucked into it, and James knew he was ready to take it harder.
“Are you ready, Al?”
James lined up his cock with Al’s hole. His cock head pushed in a little, making Al groan, and his arse gave a little bit. Suddenly James was overcome with terror that he might push too hard or too fast, and all his desperate desire seemed to halt.
“Al? Al, am I hurting you?”
Al shook his head rapidly.
“Are you sure you can take it?”
The shaking turned to nodding.
He pushed the teeniest bit further. Al keened, and a spike of panic hit him again. “Am I hurting you now?”
“Just fuck me, you idiot!”
“Fine.” James leaned in and pressed one more kiss against his lips. I will, he thought.
He fucked him like he always wanted to, so deep down inside he hadn’t even known the desire existed until tonight. Seeing Al at the club triggered it. Seeing him dance brought it out front and center. James didn’t want Al dancing for anyone. He wanted Al all for him. Al belonged to him, he always had, and James belonged to Al. He never felt so sure of that before then, as he fucked Al hard and fast and Al’s moans of pleasure echoed all around him.
There was no better feeling than this.
He felt Al’s orgasm as his arse muscles spasmed and clenched around James’ cock. James grunted through the pain-pleasure of it. Two hard strokes later, he was coming too.
Al wrapped his arm around James’ chest, nuzzling him with a huge grin on his face.
“Of course I’m okay. I’m with you, Jamie,” Al murmured. He buried his face against James, just like he usually did, and it felt so normal and right.
He was still going to grill Albus about why he was stripping in the first place. He was going to tell him off for being an idiot and working at that place. Yell at him, smack him with pillows, poke and prod him (and, now that he could, probably kiss him until he gave in to all of James’ demands and promised never to go back to that place again). He was going to do all of this tomorrow. Right now, Albus was safe and sound in his arms, and James smiled as sleep gently took hold of him.