twice twenty

[exolliarmus]

►recipient: Everyone

►title: Twice twenty

►pairings: chanyeol/jongin, side!baekhyun/sehun

►rating: NC-17 

►word count: 14.3k 

►warnings: age gap (20 years), ageswap, post-hogwarts, brief mention of the war.

►summary: Age doesn't exist in the Time room, but in Chanyeol's eyes Jongin is young even outside. 

►author's notes: dear recipient, I'm sure I drifted from one of your prompts too much and that you were hinting for something fluffier, but I hope you like it anyways! It's my first Chankai and also my first exchange, and it was really fun to write for you. Thanks to R for beta'ing and giving coherence to this mess, this would be unreadable otherwise <3

Chanyeol gets accepted into the Department of Mysteries at the tender age of twenty.

It's something he should be proud of, but the truth is he’s failed the psychological test twice, which diminishes the merit. People told him it was because he's a Gryffindor, and that Gryffindors can't be Unspeakables: their sense of chivalry doesn't allow them to work with certain subjects. The job fits Ravenclaws and Slytherins the most; the first ones because they always put knowledge ahead, and the second ones because their ambition makes talented workers.

“Haven't Unspeakables been dropping like flies lately?” Sehun asks him when he shares the news. If Chanyeol didn't know him, he would swear he's worried. But he knows him too well, and the malice is noticeable in his tone.

As Baekhyun glares at Sehun for no reason but habit, Chanyeol ducks his head down to inspect a Puddlemere United helmet. They're at Spinwitches, where Baekhyun has dragged them because of his problematic, compulsive need of buying Quidditch objects.

“But Unspeakables earn a lot of money,” Baekhyun reasons, patting Chanyeol's back as if his words were the best consolation.

Sehun and Baekhyun, Beater and Keeper of the Wimbourne Wasps, have never been the conventional, polite kind. Whether it's because Quidditch has hardened them or because both are Slytherins, sensitivity is not a trait of theirs.

“Money isn't going to keep him alive," Sehun retorts, clicking his tongue. “I can prove it at our next match with a beautiful Bludger.”

Baekhyun furrows his eyebrows when Sehun's disapproving gaze falls on his Montrose Magpies's hat. The small guy believes that wearing rival goods is a valid disguise, yet it's not. He doesn't understand that if any Wimbourne Wasps supporter catches him, it's going to be the end of him.

“If you keep pushing your members off their brooms, you're going to be expelled from the team.”

Sehun has claimed for the past few weeks that the last Bludger he sent to Baekhyun was an accident, but after knocking him off during a couple of Quidditch practices, no one trusts him anymore.

“Bad that you won't see it because you'll be dead, Park,” Sehun bickers, annoyed.

Chanyeol doesn't understand why people have such a conception of his job. Maybe it's ignorance, or maybe the similarity between what wizards perform under the Department and what dark wizards perform daily. “I haven't been assigned to the Death room.”

Baekhyun gasps in shock, wide eyes fixed on Chanyeol. The tall boy doesn't realize his mistake until he spots a wide smirk on Sehun's face.

“Oh, is there actually a Death room?” Sehun mocks him, snickering.

Although Chanyeol hasn't entered the Department yet, he has already revealed one of his secrets. This is going to be a tough journey.




First days have always been the roughest for Chanyeol.

During his first night at Hogwarts, he got lost when he was supposed to follow the Gryffindor Prefect. He got distracted with the portrait of two witches who were commenting about a flood on the second floor, and when he intended to follow the other Gryffindors' path, the stairs were empty and the corridors were dark. Hours later, a Ravenclaw Prefect found him sobbing in the Dungeons.

But first days are a playground compared to the first time he meets Jongin.

Chanyeol has been trained to fight dark magic and to create it, he has been warned about the possibility of encountering things no one would ever imagine - not even Unspeakables themselves - and he has signed a contract which puts all the responsibility on him if he happens to die. Yet he hasn't been told about how to look into the eyes of an Unspeakable and not tremble.

“You're late.”

He's a mess when Jongin talks to him, choking on his own saliva and trying not to sound strained. His tutor isn't what he expected, maybe because he pictured him as the typical chubby wizard, head of a family and future paternal figure for him. Instead, the man is all that he couldn't have imagined: he steals the ability to breathe and to think; it's a whirlwind that sucks Chanyeol into him.

The stranger screams fulfillment. His lips and nose are full, grave words and dark pupils that slit through Chanyeol. There's a permanent ferocity on his features, but he can't point out what it is exactly. Maybe because it's a perpetual trait Chanyeol registers as temporal, as if this man was eternal, a fountain of youth, false formality. Although the gray hair on the side of his head tells a different tale.

“I'm sorry,” Chanyeol jabbers, flustered.

Jongin tells him there's no going back once he enters the Department of Mysteries, but that's a discourse he already knows and has listened to for the last two years. Surprisingly, there's another word in his speech that he hasn't heard before: Jongin says he'll be his guide. Whether it's the tone or the meaning, Chanyeol needs to grasp that promise, and he does it effortlessly. All of sudden, Jongin becomes a light at the end of that corridor, a light he has to follow not to fall into the claws of time.

The wizard flicks his wand once and the tip illuminates the door of the Department delicately. The darkness of his eyes are deeper due to the contrast, and Chanyeol can't even swallow anymore.

“Kim Jongin,” his tutor whispers in a way that suggests is on purpose.

But when Chanyeol collects the courage to look directly at his face, he isn't smiling. Jongin, his name, has a youngish resonance too.

“Park Chanyeol.”

“I know.” Of course he knows. He's an Unspeakable, so there's no way in the world he wouldn't have the situation under the control. It's likely he has a lot of information about Chanyeol, not only his name, but also where he lives, who his parents are, where he studied. “Alright, Park, remember to keep your wand ready.”

Jongin spins around with a graceful move, his cloak lingering in the air for a moment. When he pushes the door at the end of the corridor, Chanyeol realizes that, even though he is gripping his wand with a frantic fear, he's not ready at all.

His tutor doesn't help either as he adds, “Always.”

This time, Chanyeol can assure that yes, there's a smile behind that warning.




In the Time room, time seems to play its own games and with its own rules. Chanyeol learns this after just a week of work, and he does it in a strange way. It isn't a thought that comes to him while being surrounded by creatures imprisoned in accelerated cycles of time, or while peering at the clock that hangs off the wall like a huge threat. Instead, the thought assaults him during an afternoon at The Three Broomsticks, and doesn't abandon him until he spots Jongin's gray hair the next morning.

Sometimes, Jongin and the room become one thing. Chanyeol isn't able to tell them apart unless the man gazes at him, a questioning hint that chases after his dreams and makes his bed unbearably uncomfortable at night. He doesn't know if he stares at the other Unspeakable for too long - after all, time doesn't flow logically within those four walls. A second, a minute, an hour, he just knows it isn't enough.

“How old is he?”

Baekhyun is the first one to question him, which doesn't surprise Chanyeol.

They've met at the Hog's Head after a late Quidditch practice, a punishment for the loss of the last match. It's not unusual for them to pick that establishment over The Three Broomsticks, since Baekhyun and Sehun need to avoid the masses (it's a Saturday night, and they might have stayed at home as well), but neither of them have gotten used to the kind of customers that attend the place. There's a clearly illegal trade going on in a corner, for example, and a half-giant who has multi-coloured beverages on the table.

“He's probably sixty or something,” Sehun jokes.

Baekhyun is curious, so is Sehun. It's difficult not to be when Chanyeol doesn't run his mouth for a single second, and given that his work is highly confidential, he can only talk about his partner.

“How would I know?” Chanyeol shrugs. For some reason, the question leaves a bothersome feeling inside him. “He's not young, though.”

“But is he hot or not?” insists Sehun while sipping his Firewhiskey. He has ignored the complaints from Baekhyun about how he shouldn't drink alcohol, since tomorrow morning they have another punishment training. “It doesn't matter how old the wand is, but how big.”

A blush spreads on Chanyeol's cheeks at the statement, even though he's anything but innocent. Baekhyun breaks in a fit of laughter as he scans around to make sure no one has heard it, but everyone seems to mind their own business.

“I wouldn't talk like that considering what you carry under your robes, Oh,” attacks Baekhyun seconds later, a smirk emerging on his lips.

“I'm big!”

They both ignore the defence, Chanyeol because he honestly would rather not know and Baekhyun because he wouldn't be nice to Sehun in a million years. He always opts for torturing Sehun, but those are just the natural reactions after being in grave danger every time he rides his broom. If Sehun was a bit less crazy, a bit less violent, they wouldn't spend so much time fighting. Slytherins, Chanyeol guesses, who understands them.

“Don't mind him. You want that? Then tap that,” Baekhyun continues.

He pats Chanyeol's back right when he's swallowing from his butterbeer, thus he ends up choking.

“I d-don't!”

However, Chanyeol considers the possibility once they've left the Hog's Head that night. As Baekhyun hops onto Sehun's back and claims between laughs that he's his new hippogriff, he realizes that maybe, just maybe, there's something about Jongin that draws his attention in an unique way.




“Did you go to Hogwarts?”

Jongin isn't the talkative type. He can spend his work shift without uttering a word except to give orders, and that gets on Chanyeol’s nerves. He's used to noise, not to silence. His roommates at the Gryffindor dorm were complete idiots that wouldn't shut up even at night; his parents are both radio speakers at the Wizarding Wireless Network, and don't let him begin with Baekhyun and Sehun.

The silence, to Chanyeol, turns the Time room into an awful place. The hours are heavier and he feels more consumed by them, and he soon realizes Jongin's voice is what soothes the weight.

To his relief, Jongin doesn't seem disconcerted at the question. Instead, he stops his wand mid-air, the next words disappearing from his mind as though Chanyeol has cast a Memory charm at him.

Supporting himself on a black box that they have never opened, he turns to peer at Chanyeol with a spark in his eyes that the latter hasn't witnessed before. “What would you say?”

There's a trail of amusement in his tone, which doesn't go unnoticed by Chanyeol. He decides this is his chance to go further: Jongin is staring at him, somehow curious, and disposed to talk for once.

Chanyeol considers the options for a few seconds, even though having all of Jongin's attention on him slows down his brain's capacity. “I would say you're a Slytherin.”

“A Slytherin, huh?” Jongin repeats, a twitch of his lips that signals that he's about to laugh. His voice sounds raspy and somehow enticing, as if he had just woken up from a long sleep. “Why not a Ravenclaw, a Gryffindor?”

Chanyeol finds himself laughing right away, standing like a fool because that's the longest sentence Jongin has articulated in weeks, and it's also the most defining retort he could have ever said.

“That's exactly what a Slytherin would ask,” he points out, brave enough to sway his wand at Jongin's chest. Of course, he realizes what he has done a moment later, withdrawing his arm in embarrassment. “Not to mention you didn't even count Hufflepuff as a house.”

That's so typical of Slytherins, Chanyeol knows it well. His pair of best friends have always sneered at the Hufflepuffs, both behind their back and in front of them. It's like a funny joke to them, one that the rest of Hogwarts can't get.

He's conscious that he has guessed it right when, for the first time, Jongin smiles, wide and honest and with so much power that Chanyeol senses his bones shattering under his flesh. It's a brief gesture, though, for Jongin glances at the big clock once and that erases any trace of happiness.

In silence, he starts to strip off his cloak, so Chanyeol makes an effort to tear his eyes away. It's almost a routine: the Ministry of Magic provides them special cloaks for the time they're inside the Department, thus they have to change them before going out. Chanyeol ignores the reason, but it's probably better that way. What he doesn't know can't hurt him.

The bad side of this is that Jongin looks different without his cloak. He always wears dark jeans and black shirts, which adapt in a terrific way to the muscles beneath the fabric. Defined thighs and a slim waist, a chest that stands out slightly and a portion of bronzed skin that peeks out due to an undone bottom; that's what Chanyeol's dreams are about.

“You kids nowadays are so tolerant,” Jongin comments, noticing how Chanyeol remains frozen on his spot.

He means no harm, Chanyeol is aware. He's referring at the fact that the four houses get on well with each other, relatively. Whatever Jongin's age is, he must have attended Hogwarts when the rivalry was so strong that it drifted them apart by colors.

Chanyeol couldn't care less about it. There's another word that has carved his patience, the loss of which pushes him to spit the answer without thinking twice.

“I'm not a kid.”

It's cold and even rude, and it soon has Chanyeol wanting to slap a hand over his mouth. When Jongin's pupils land on his, Time ceases, as though the clock's hand had been petrified by some soundless magic.

Chanyeol doesn't breath as Jongin roams his eyes all over his body, from head to toe, very slowly. There's no trace of inhibition in the way Jongin looks at him, and all of sudden he feels so naked, so exposed. And so aroused.

“You aren't,” concludes Jongin, and then he doesn't open his mouth for the rest of the day.




A month flies away before Chanyeol gets used to the Time room. However, Jongin's presence never provokes within him the same sensation: he's still nervous every time the elder's eyes fall on him, he still recalls at night his whole day, the subtle smiles, the casual strokes and the way Jongin puts his hand on his lower back to guide him across the room. He still shivers when Jongin takes his fingers to show him how to grasp the wand correctly for a certain charm, but Jongin shivers too.

Sehun tells him he doesn't actually have a crush on Jongin, that it's something more. But what would Sehun know? He has been dropped off the titular line of the team because he broke a partner's arm with a Bludger. Of course, he assured them it was an accident, but Quidditch players of his level never make so many mistakes.

“You can't attack people just because they ask me out, Sehun!” Baekhyun shouts at him one afternoon at The Three Broomsticks.

Between too many Firewhiskeys and the full, loud pub, Sehun dares to answer something he shouldn't. “Yes, I can!”

Chanyeol thanks the alcohol that neither of his friends are able to remember the small fight the next morning. It takes him by surprise, though, the functioning of their relationship. He would have never figured out that former suicidal Quidditch player Sehun has a solid interest in his long term friend. They've had plenty of time to develop feelings for each other, yet it's the first time Chanyeol gets evidence of it.

On some days he pities Sehun, sure that it's a one-sided love, but then the realization hits him: at the beginning of their careers, Baekhyun rejected a million galleon offer from the Montrose Magpies's, which he's a fan of, to stay with the Wimbourne Wasps. With Sehun.

Even though they don't change a bit of their behavior, Chanyeol reminds himself to confront them about it when it's the right moment. Now, unfortunately, it's not: he's too immersed in his own meditations, bright nightmares and dark dreamt desires that bring Jongin's features to his mind.

It's at the end of that month, too, when Chanyeol can't bear with the amount of questions piling within him.

It's on a Wednesday, while he's sitting in front of the phoenix, that he decides to venture further. Jongin is kneeling beside him, a hand on his shoulder for support as he mutters a hundred charms under his breath. He has his eyes closed, his mind far away from the reality, but none of his efforts achieve the only aim of their work: stop the cycle of the phoenix's life.

Chanyeol observes the side profile of his tutor, who mildly trembles after hours of exertion. He throws an arm around his waist and Jongin leans against the uphold, but he never comes out from his concentration.

“How old are you?” whispers Chanyeol, softly, almost as though it's a rhetorical question.

Jongin's eyelids part in slow motion, blinking as if he had been just pulled out of the bed, and it takes a whole minute for him to come back completely. He looks at Chanyeol with his head tilted, not minding the contact around his body. He seems tired as he holds himself against Chanyeol's embrace even more, but probably the younger does too.

There's a silence deeper than before, eyes connected, until the elder brushes Chanyeol's hair out of his vision. It's a tender move on his forehead, fingers that hitch his breath and make him wait for great things.

“In this place?” Jongin asks him in a mutter, while Chanyeol fists the back of his cloak in anticipation. “I can be any age I want to.”

At that instant, clock ticking and the eternal phoenix burning to ashes inside his cage, Chanyeol knows, he just knows he has fallen for Jongin.




Chanyeol lives by himself in a building dedicated to wizards that are preparing themselves for the exams of the Ministry of Magic. He's not supposed to be in a dorm for future workers, as he's already one of them, but the rent is cheap and Chanyeol barely has money. He guesses that after a few months, his pay will be enough for him to move out, although he has no idea where he'll go.

Despite having a room and a small kitchen for himself, there's anything close to privacy. It has been proven by the hundred times Sehun has Apparated inside the room without a warning, so Chanyeol always stays alert.

It's a Friday afternoon when Sehun Apparates onto his couch again, perfectly seated and with a smirk that scares him for a brief second. Chanyeol is lying, legs stretched in their full length while reading Why I Didn't Die When the Augurey Cried , so he simply spares an uninterested glance at his friend.

“I swear you're an alien,” Sehun comments nonchalantly, as though it sounds a bit like a complaint. “I never catch you with your hand inside your pants.”

“You're gross,” cringes Chanyeol, wondering if Sehun should be in a Quidditch training or here, bothering him. “Why would you want that?”

“I just want to make sure you're a healthy person that loves himself enough to wank from time to time.”

The statement is disgusting, but so is Sehun. The two aims in his life are to make people love themselves and to break the bones of as many Quidditch players he's able to. Maybe those are contradictory purposes, Chanyeol isn't sure of it because Sehun seems to be doing well.

“Should I make sure you stop trying to kill Baekhyun's ex-boyfriends as well?” Chanyeol retorts, closing the book to send a triumphant smile toward his friend.

Sehun gawks at him, speechless, as Chanyeol laughs out loud. Perhaps he was too straightforward, but Sehun was asking for it, always so conceited and fakely noble. There's nothing better for a Gryffindor than to beat a Slytherin in his own field.

Chanyeol can practically imagine Sehun's brain working to find a destroying answer, but he never gets to respond. The door of the dorm opens so fast it makes the floor shake, and Chanyeol gasps when Kim Jongdae enters while pointing his wand at him.

“You!” the uninvited boy exclaims. “You're working with my uncle!”

It takes several seconds for Chanyeol to put two and two together, especially because his survival instinct tells him he's being threatened for unknown reasons. Although Jongdae doesn't lower his wand, there's an annoying grin on his face.

“What?” Chanyeol stupidly inquires of him as he closes the door with a simple move of the wand. “Jongin is your uncle?”

Jongdae pounces on the couch, landing next to Sehun, who is half confused by the new situation and still half humiliated. “Yes! I asked him if he knew a Park Chanyeol that had started to work at...”

“Wait, your uncle?” Sehun snaps at last, the incredulity audible in his voice. He shifts his gaze from Jongdae to his friend, nearly amused. “Chanyeol, you can't like someone that much older.”

Even if Chanyeol has never admitted he might like his tutor, he doesn't bother to deny it. It's useless, since Sehun has already dropped the bomb, and now he has to deal with a Jongdae blinking at him in deep, naughty thoughts.

“You like my uncle?” he asks, realizing bit by bit how true the statement is. A blush is tinting the taller's cheeks, and that's all he needs to obtain his answer. “I'm so telling him.”

The dread takes over Chanyeol instantly. Among all the possibilities, this one is the worst; he would rather duel Voldemort than have to face Jongin after he has heard about 'the new kid crushing on him like a stupid troll'.

“No, you're not!”

There's a long silence, followed by Jongdae giggling against Sehun's chest as Chanyeol drowns in misery. The Beater joins him in the silly laughter, both of them acting like a pair of teenagers hearing about a crush for the first time. Life would be brighter if Chanyeol could just take a photo of them and ruin Sehun's reputation by selling it to The Daily Prophet.

However, Chanyeol is not a kid, even though he gets embarrassed by this conversation and terrified at the prospect of his secrets being revealed. After all, Jongin is a mystery for him; he's the man that shares a room with him eight hours a day, and also the man who never answers his questions but that looks at him in a way nobody has done before. Chanyeol has a golden opportunity right in front of his eyes called Jongdae, a fountain of information he would have never imagined.

“By the way,” Chanyeol shyly begins, playing with the book's pages not to make eye contact with his friends. “How old is he?”

Sehun giggles harder, but Jongdae beams up at him proudly. “Forty.”

He seems younger than that is the first thought on Chanyeol's mind. Regardless of the permanent tiredness on his face and the severe silence he keeps, he doesn't fit that age. Maybe it's only Chanyeol's notion.

“I wonder why you haven't asked the important question, though, so I'll answer anyways,” Jongdae continues, condescending, tilting his head as if he's talking to a child.

Chanyeol scowls at him, suspicious. “What are you talking about?”

“He's single.”




There are a lot of things Jongin could have lived during the twenty years Chanyeol lacks. It’s a scary thought, one that leaves him far away from his tutor mentally and physically: Jongin was already a graduate when Chanyeol wasn’t even born.

If Chanyeol was honest with himself, he would be somehow pleased that Jongin is single. However, he isn't, and he comes down to the conclusion that it doesn't have anything to do with his romantic interest for the older man. Instead, Jongdae's revelation troubles him even more. Does that mean Jongin has never married? Or is he divorced and with kids? It wouldn't be hard to find out, since a mere question to Jongdae about his cousins would be enough, but he doesn't want to pry. At least, not to the point of becoming a stalker.

Baekhyun has an unexpected reaction after knowing Jongin's age. While Sehun keeps laughing at him and Jongdae even leaves a walking stick at his door as an attempt at a joke - rude, in Chanyeol's opinion, considering Jongin is from his family - Baekhyun starts sending him owls with advice. He doesn't talk to him face to face because he's probably embarrassed of that inner kindness, and Chanyeol bets he wouldn't acknowledge it if he mentioned it.

But Chanyeol has other worries, although they're all about Jongin. It doesn't pass a week until he realizes that Jongin knows, whether it's because Jongdae hasn't been able to keep from running his mouth or because Chanyeol is being too obvious. Or perhaps he's just too paranoid.

“So you're friends with my nephew, right?” Jongin asks him one afternoon after they left the Room quite late.

They're alone in the lift, undoubtedly the last Unspeakables that are leaving the level, and Chanyeol needs to gather all his autocontrol not to babble and drool over Jongin. The man is staring at him, paying attention to all his moves as to discover Chanyeol's secrets.

The young boy is aware of how easy he is to read, but he still blushes a little as Jongin sends him a knowing smirk. “Yes, he is... nice.”

Confusion strikes across Jongin's face before he's leaning against the wall of the lift, arms crossed over his chest. “Nice? I think we're not talking about the same Jongdae.”

The joke sounds odd on Jongin's lips, but it might be because it's the first time Chanyeol is hearing something like that from him. There's tension in the atmosphere, which the younger one tries to erase with a chuckle; but when he turns his head to look at Jongin, it's impossible for him to be calm.

Jongin is dead serious, his lower lip trapped in a bite that painfully draws Chanyeol's gaze to his mouth. He's scared of meeting the authority of Jongin's eyes, yet he forces himself to because, deep inside, he yearns for it. He only needs a second to lose himself in the way the man pulls him in with a simple stare, heartbeat speeding up.

His tutor is the first to break eye contact, though Chanyeol isn't expecting what he does next. Jongin reaches for his wand, lightly swaying it, and before Chanyeol processes what he's doing, the lift has stopped on its way down.

The breathing of both becomes awfully noticeable in the silence, Chanyeol's much more unsteady as Jongin sets his eyes on him again. The man takes a step toward him, and then another and another, and Chanyeol moves back like in a mute dance.

Jongin corners him in the back of the lift in a matter of seconds, in a way that doesn't allow Chanyeol speak up for himself. Jongin is too close for him to function, his characteristic smell invading Chanyeol's nostrils. Even though he's taller than the man, he finds himself sliding down against the wall in a submissive act, knees weak and his eyes fluttering shut. Jongin stops him when they are eye to eye, though the younger doesn't dare to meet his gaze. It's in this moment when Chanyeol understands the great gap between Jongin and himself: he's a powerful wizard, one with enough control to reduce Chanyeol to this pathetic excuse of person, and Chanyeol has nothing on him.

“I could be your father,” Jongin retorts, putting his arms on both sides of Chanyeol's head. It's an answer to the questions Chanyeol hasn't asked, but Jongin is enough smart to interpret what's inside him. “Literally.”

Chanyeol flinches, but there's nowhere he can run away to. They're having this conversation right here and right now, even if he is barely able to utter a word.

But in some place of his mind, he grasps the hope that Jongin's words are leaving to him. His tutor has noticed how much Chanyeol desires him, and he's not blatantly rejecting him. He's giving him reasons to back down, instead, that only sound like hidden insecurity to Chanyeol.

“I don't care,” he manages to say, timidly opening his eyelids.

He discovers Jongin closer than he has expected, shining eyes and tense jaw. “You don't care now. But all you kids want is to get laid properly, and you can find that in someone else.”

Chanyeol wants to disagree. He's sure it's the other way around, for he doesn't have anything to offer to a man like Jongin. He's just unexperienced, a bit naive and the owner of a toned, alluring body full of youth. If he ever gets Jongin's attention, it's going to be because of those reasons, not because Jongin is falling for him. Not because there's something valuable within him.

He can hardly breathe as he insists, “That's not what I want. Let me prove it.”

Perhaps Jongin hasn't anticipated that response, because Chanyeol's determination brings the ghost of a smile to his lips. It's almost sweet, as he parts Chanyeol's long bangs from his vision, but the gesture is gone as fast as it appeared. “It's not a good idea, Park.”

“But...”

The lift gets in motion without warning, and then Jongin is detaching himself from Chanyeol and going back to his past spot. However, he sends a last glance to his pupil. “We work together.”




“I can't face him anymore. I feel stupid and humiliated.”

Baekhyun can measure the degree of Chanyeol's discontent by how little he cares about who is listening. He has been whining all the way to Hogsmeade, and now that Baekhyun has been approached by a fan and is giving her his signature, Chanyeol hasn't minded that his friend wasn't paying attention anymore. However, the witch is starting to steal glances at Chanyeol as though he is crazy, scared, even if her idol is standing in front of her eyes right now. How dare Chanyeol rob the spotlight from her?

“And you know? There's a work dinner this Friday and damn, he has invited me,” the boy continues, sighing in resignation. “I couldn't say no, right? He gave me the look, like he knows I want to be a coward.”

Baekhyun growls, a sound that finally makes his fan slink off, and turns around to face his friend. “Sleep with him.”

“Baekhyun?” Chanyeol leaves a trace of scolding in his tone, eyebrows softly furrowed. “Have you listened to me at all?”

He has, in fact, enough to get on his nerves. He's just being indulgent because Chanyeol seems really troubled by that man, and since Sehun is still mocking him about the age thing, the burden of being the good friend goes to him.

“He clearly wants to sleep with you, so go ahead,” Baekhyun repeats, entangling an arm with Chanyeol's as they walk through Hogsmeade. “He's rejecting you to prove a point.”

Chanyeol blinks, a disapproving glint that accuses Baekhyun directly. “Alright, that's the most psycho-ish thing you have said so far. So if Sehun rejected you, you would still force him because well, he's only trying to prove a point?”

He's trying to kill two birds with one shot, in which he's successful judging Baekhyun's reaction. His friend pinches him in the ribs, quite harsh to be considered playful. “Why would I do Sehun?”

“Come on,” Chanyeol protests, rolling his eyes.

Baekhyun seems to pick up on the situation, a blush crossing his cheeks as fast as lightning. This is new to his friend, for Baekhyun is the type to be self-assured and strident and definitely not someone who would be shy about a crush.

“Piss off, Park,” he ends grunting, looking ahead with his chin raised. “And no one would reject me, for your information.”

Chanyeol chuckles under his scarf, still with Baekhyun holding his arm for warmth, but he feels his smile falling off within a second. Instantly, he recognizes the figure coming out from Dervish and Banges, but he's struck for what he sees: Jongin is smiling, showing his teeth, as he talks to two men.

There's panic, as though he has been caught doing something he shouldn't, but there's also a feeling of wrongness. Jongin doesn't belong here, out of the Time Room, becoming a real person in Chanyeol's real world.

“Baekhyun!” he exclaims, tugging at his cloak in anxiety.

His friend has practically sunk his face into his arm, so his voice sounds muffled. “What?”

“It's him!”

That's all it takes for Baekhyun to raise his head again, not needing a name to know what Chanyeol means. It's the fear and the emotion that tells him Jongin is one of the wizards in the crowded street. Baekhyun supposes he's the man that is staring back at them, or to be specific, at Chanyeol. He simply spares Baekhyun an undecipherable glance that sends a shiver down his spine. He's not alone, though, and he excuses himself from the company before walking straight to Chanyeol and Baekhyun, who are standing in shock as to wait for him.

Baekhyun has trouble sharing a little confidence with Chanyeol, short in time and in strength. “Wow, he's eye candy.”

“He's gorgeous,” Chanyeol replies, though he doesn't intend to say it out loud.

It's true. From Chanyeol's words and common sense, Baekhyun has guessed Jongin would have to be somewhat appealing, but he hasn't expected this. Even at forty, this man sweats sensuality, or maybe he only does when he's looking at Chanyeol, like right now.

There's no trace of hesitation as Jongin approaches them and sort of smiles at Chanyeol, completely ignoring the smaller boy.

“Park, what brings you here?” he casually greets him, patting him on the arm. Chanyeol doesn't respond, dazed, only able to give a stupid grin back. Apparently that's enough for Jongin, because at last he turns to Baekhyun, not as friendly as before. “Byun Baekhyun?”

It isn't surprising that Jongin knows him, even in the case he doesn't like Quidditch. The said guy offers his hand, not missing how Chanyeol squints at them, and he's certain Jongin thinks twice before accepting it. Even then, Baekhyun can tell he does so because of manners.

“Yes!” Baekhyun pipes up, a sly smile cropping up. Once he lets go of Jongin's hand, he sticks more to Chanyeol's arm, aware of the look - raging, hateful - that Jongin is using over him. “You're a Quidditch fan?”

A raised brow and a grimace indicate that Jongin isn't disposed to maintain a conversation. His gaze is fixed on the affectionate contact between the two young boys, and then travels to Chanyeol, who is oblivious of the clear signals. However, Baekhyun couldn't be more content with the situation.

The man clears his throat, but he still sounds dry. “Actually, I'm a Wimbourne Wasps supporter.”

There are two reasons why Baekhyun answers rudely. One, his ego is easy to boost up. Second, he loves pushing people to their edge. “Oh, that's nice, do you want my signature?”

Both Chanyeol and Jongin detect the sarcastic, disrespectful way Baekhyun proposes it. It screams 'I'm better than you,’ a thought Chanyeol is always trying to erase from his head. It's obvious he has failed so far though.

“Baek!”

Chanyeol apologizes on his behalf as Baekhyun laughs out loud. Laughs at Jongin. His tutor is clearly indignant at the attitude of the pretty, adored boy of the Quidditch world, but he doesn't comment on it. Chanyeol pities him, because it's never pleasant to discover someone so talented is such a brat, and overall, pities himself because Baekhyun is making him look bad too.

“Have a good day, Park,” Jongin continues, dismissing the apology and the still mocking boy that clings to Chanyeol. “And you too, Byun.”

Once Jongin has turned around, Chanyeol doesn't waste time punching Baekhyun in the stomach. His friend scurries away before he hits him again, and lifts his arms to ask for permission.

“He defied me!” he clarifies, amused by his own revelation.

Chanyeol scrunches his nose in skepticism. “He what?”

“Defied me!” Baekhyun repeats. He can't believe the taller is enough stupid to not understand the exchange between him and Jongin. Anyways, he explains further. “He almost broke my bones in the handshake.”

A pair of seconds pass until Chanyeol seems to catch the meaning of his words, but after all, he's incapable of expressing his feelings. “Oh.”




Chanyeol wishes he could excuse himself from the work dinner, but there's no hope for him. A part of him pushes himself to be satisfied with the situation, because it's the first time he'll be sharing a friendly, relaxed environment with Jongin, and more importantly, he'll see how Jongin interacts with the rest of the Unspeakables.

After they Apparate into Hogsmeade, Kim Junmyeon is the first one to approach him to talk besides a formal greeting, which Chanyeol is grateful for. He feels out of place between these men who have known each other for years, who laugh and throw jokes that would be rude if they weren't close.

“I work at the Death room,” Junmyeon tells him to break the ice. “Are you interested in it?”

“Me?” Chanyeol dumbly asks, not sure where the other is trying to go. He hasn't thought about entering the Death room before, mainly because it's the representation of an impossible dream. There are just a few people who are successful enough to obtain the right credentials, which means Chanyeol can say goodbye to it: he failed the psychological test twice, so there's no way he's allowed into Death issues. “I mean, I do, but it seems a bit-”

He doesn't have to finish the lie, because Jongin, who was talking to another co-worker just a second ago, interrupts him. “Leave the kid alone, Kim, your room is too dangerous for him.”

Chanyeol's blood freezes, and it has nothing to do with the cold weather. As they walk into The Hog's Head - where would Unspeakables go if not there? - he regrets having accepted the dinner proposition at all. Here's Jongin, treating him like a child in front of others adults, because that how they look at him, how they think of him.

“Mind your own business, Jongin!” Junmyeon cackles, shoving him into a seat. On the other hand, he grasps Chanyeol's arm and motions for him to sit between them, determined to continue the conversation. “It's not every day we get new brains in the Department of Mysteries. And it's not every day either a tutor talks wonders of his pupil.”

Perhaps because Chanyeol is still angry at Jongin, he doesn't feel that praise is good enough to calm him down. He doesn't care if other Unspeakables want him to join their respective Rooms, since he's comfortable where he is, at least in working terms. A part of it may be related to Jongin's presence, so while that doesn't make him completely serene, it has gotten into his bones.

“Maybe I'm just good at Time stuff,” Chanyeol reasons, overwhelmed by the sudden attention he's getting from Junmyeon and a few witches and wizards across the table.

“I see,” Junmyeon smiles at him, playfully, as if he could decipher different words in his eyes. “But loyalty won't get you too far.”

“You're such a bad influence, Kim,” Jongin grumbles, glaring at the other Unspeakable. There's something in the way they stare at each other that gives away their friendship, so Chanyeol isn't worried about them getting into an argument.

They're only an hour into the dinner - if you can call what The Hog's Head serves food - when Chanyeol starts feeling a bit dizzy. Ernie Macmillan has bought him three Firewhiskeys by then, and Junmyeon is getting touchy as Chanyeol leans against Jongin instead.

He's careless under the effect of the alcohol, and although he knows he should stop, he doesn't reject the next drink either. Jongin seems to be a magnet with each sip he takes in, and not in the usual way he is: this time he lets Chanyeol have his way, put his hand on his thigh and tell him a bunch of nonsense that only sounds funny because Jongin is drunk too.

“Jongin was the worst during his student days,” Junmyeon reveals at some point. “I don't understand how he got into the Ministry with his history.”

“Whatever he says, it's a lie.”

Against Jongin's will, Junmyeon begins to speak without trouble. “In his first year, he transformed a Ravenclaw into a cod and threw her into the lake.”

“How could he know that spell at eleven?!” Chanyeol exclaims, probably too impressed for a normal reaction.

“And then he enchanted the surface of the lake so that she couldn't get out,” the man continues, despite the whine Jongin has started to emit. “The poor girl had to find the tubes and went missing until Myrtle found her in a toilet.”

Most of the wizards at the table burst into laughter, but Chanyeol frowns at the story, very indignant with Jongin's past actions. As if Jongin were Sehun and not his forty-year-old tutor, Chanyeol punishes him with a hit on the arm.

Jongin stares at him wide-eyed, because even though he's a bit dizzy too, the last thing he's expecting is for his obedient student to use violence on him.

“Do you think that's bad?” Jongin questions him, a glint of amusement crossing his gaze. “You should have seen the face of that Gryffindor I left naked on the stairs.”

Judging the lack of reaction from the rest of the workers, that isn’t fresh news. “You did what?”

“He was trying to get into my pants,” Jongin clarifies, and despite how wrong he is, he really thinks that's a valid reason to humiliate a Gryffindor. “As if. So I gave him a lesson.”

As Jongin and Junmyeon put together their drinks in a toast, Chanyeol huffs in resignation. “If a Slytherin had asked you the same thing...”

“I wouldn't have done any harm,” Jongin confirms.

He settles his drink on the table, and when he turns to Chanyeol, he's extremely serious again. All of sudden, the younger one has the feeling he has gone too far, he has complained too much, but it might be a side effect of looking into those deep, dark eyes.

Slowly, Jongin brings a lazy smirk to his lips, which soon has Chanyeol getting away from him in fright. However, he doesn't have time to avoid the hand that holds the back of his head, or the fingers hitched to his hair or, for that matter, the dilated pupils that cut through his soul.

“Do you want a lesson too?”

It's just a whisper, but it's so clear and intimate that Chanyeol shivers at the proposition. He's not oblivious, at least not enough to disregard the meaning of Jongin's actions, but nothing makes sense. Chanyeol feels like a lab rat whose owner is playing him: Jongin pushes him away, and then silently threatens Baekhyun, and then he wants to show him what he can do with a Gryffindor.

Now or never, Chanyeol thinks. Let him regret it tomorrow, when there will be no going back and Jongin won't be able to deny that he is attracted to him somehow.

“I do.”

Even if he has fired the gun, he's not ready to receive the shot. Jongin hauls him forward, kisses him fast but completely, trapping his lips between soft flesh and warmness, and pulls away as though the contact has burnt him. Chanyeol is left with his lips parted in anticipation, gasping and urging for more, and The Hog's Head spins around him. There's venom in Jongin's lips, he just knows it.

“Take me home with you.”

Jongin fiercely grips his hand, crushing his bones with the strength, and then obeys him.




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.

BREAK
“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 the conversation.

“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.