Divine Ecstasy

Gilderoy found himself staring at his reflection in the glass of the Apothecary shop in Diagon Alley. He found himself very pleasing to look at and he just HAD to stop and take a gander. It had been hard going thus far, but he had made it. He had conquered his mind.
Some time ago, after an unfortunate encounter with Harry Potter, he had lost his memory. It was a terrible thing. He had no idea who he was, what he was doing, or where he was going. All around, it had been very unpleasant.
For three months after the incident he had wandered around England. He couldn’t remember where his home was, or what to do with himself. It was in the shadowy part of a bar and pub that he had met Lucas; and Lucas had saved his life.
At the time, Gilderoy had no money, no prospects and was very hungry. He had been begging for money outside the bar and decided to go inside to see if he could mooch a drink off of someone. Or at least a Knut or two to buy a cheap glass of wine.
Everyone in the bar ignored him. No one even looked in Gilderoy’s direction. He didn’t know it of course, but everyone already knew who he was; and what had happened to him. So, if they didn’t want to listen to hundreds of questions about who he was, they ignored him.
But Lucas didn’t. He saw Gilderoy enter, and thought: ‘By the Gods, there’s a man!’ He beckoned Gilderoy over to his table. Gilderoy sat down, and gulped at the beer that had been placed in front of him. “Thank you.” He breathed.
“No, no, YOU, friend. Names Lucas.” He had replied.
“How can I ever repay you? I’ve no money ”
“It’s not money I’m after, pretty boy.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Your body.”
For months after that, Lucas had trained Gilderoy in the arts of pleasuring another man. How to touch, how to suckle, how to cajole another’s skin into submission, how to make love to another man without even touching him.
After almost half a year of “training” Lucas pronounced Gilderoy ready. He would be the new Whore of England, and would be quite well paid for it, of course. Gilderoy shied away from that thought, thinking himself to be unworthy of such attention.
What he didn’t know, however, was that the Wizarding community remembered him well from his days as an author and couldn’t wait to pay for a little play with the famous author turned boy toy.
And pay they did. Three years after Lucas had shown him the ropes, Gilderoy was again a rich man. And a conceded one. One of his “clients” had a set of his books. He had asked if he could borrow them, and the client told him to “go out and buy a bloody set ye’self! Yur the bloody author!”
This sounded like good advice to him, so he did just that. Not knowing all the information in the books to be lies, Gilderoy believed every word. You might say that he believed all of his own lies.
“What an amazing person I’ve been!” he said, “Truly amazing! No wonder I’m so loveable, five time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Fabulous Smile!” He smiled now, while looking in the dark glass of the Apothecary window.
He was looking at a bucket of newt eyes (5 Knuts a scoop) when he saw movement inside the shop. It was a man, by the looks of it. Tall, thin dressed in dark clothing. Then the man turned; breathtaking.
He was pale skinned with a long hooked nose and longish dark hair. Gilderoy felt his breath stop in his lungs. He must have this man. He looked at his hand. They were shaking with anticipation of the hunt. Could it be that he was in love? Not possible, Gilderoy told himself. He had bedded countless boys, and never felt a thing.
Not even a tinge of emotion.
But he did this time. There was a fire that was growing in his loins and his stomach, one that, once lit, would never be put out. He must pursue this man. He must find out this man’s name. He would be his.
He entered the shop and hid behind a stack of sacks filled with pixie dust. He listened to what his man was saying.
“Are you listening to anything I’m saying?” he said in a fierce whisper.
“Yes, Professor Snape, I wouldn’t think to do otherwise.” The Apothecary whimpered.
“The you listen well.” Snape hissed. “I need that shipment of frog livers NOW, as in NEXT TEUSDAY. If I don’t have them in my hand by tomorrow at the latest, I will have your guts for garters. Am I clear?”
“Crystal,” said the Apothecary.
“Good” Snape smiled coldly. “Have a nice day.”
Gilderoy watched Snape exit the shop, his heart beating hard and fast. Oh, what an animal! He thought. He must have him! What absolute force behind his words!, thought Gilderoy. I must tame him!
He ran after Snape, trying to catch up to his love. Snape, it would seem, was able to walk very fast. Gilderoy followed a short distance behind, always-careful not to let Snape see him. He wanted the thrill of the hunt to last as long as possible. He was savouring it, just as he would savour Professor Snape. He wondered what Snape's first name was.
Gilderoy saw Snape enter a bar and pub, and stopped in his tracks. It was the very same pub in which he had met Lucas almost four years ago. And Gilderoy thought he knew where Snape would be sitting.
He entered the pub and looked around quickly. Sure enough, encased in shadow, was Snape reading an old book and sipping a bitter pint of beer. Gilderoy made his way over to him slowly, the hunt dwindling down now. The task was almost at hand, as it were.
Before sitting down beside him, Gilderoy looked at Snape's angular face contoured by shadows. It was a strong face, one that spoke of power. A lock of hair fell and brushed against Snape’s lips. Gilderoy was in Heaven. He slipped in beside him.
“Hello.” Gilderoy whispered in what he thought was a seductive voice.
“What do you-“ Snape turned his eyes in Gilderoy’s direction. “YOU! What are you doing here?!”
“Do you know me?” Gilderoy asked.
“Of COURSE I know you, you stupid git!”
“Oh, good! You’ve read my books! That’ll make things easier. Your place or mine?”
“What?” whispered Snape.
“I know you want me, you can’t deny it. I’m the highest paid boy toy in all of London.”
“That’s exactly what you are. A boy toy. You wouldn’t want me to break you.”
Gilderoy became excited. “Oh would you?! Break me I mean? I just got this new whip, it’s made from lilac coloured leather-“
“I’m not going to pay you for sex, Lockheart.”
“Oh, I don’t want you to PAY me! I want you to DO me! I thought you understood that?”
Snape stifled a sigh of exasperation. “Are you always this stupid? Or is this just something you’re doing as some crazy sex game? Piss off the target?”
“Oh, Snapypoo-“
Snape's hand lashed out and grabbed Gilderoys wrist with a bone-crushing strength. “DON’T call me Snapypoo. UNDERSTAND?” Snape whispered fiercely.
There was a flash in Gilderoy’s eyes. “Oh. So you do like it rough!” he said, smiling. “I thought you might! Naughty boy!”
With a howl of rage Snape rushed out of the pub muttering dark things under his breath. “Curse the day I met that man!” and the like.
Gilderoy watched his love flee from him. He wasn’t worried, actually. His heart told him not to be so. Who knew that love could be so satisfying? He got up, paid for his pint, and ran after Snape.
Snape, for his part, was trying to run far away from Gilderoy. What was wrong with that man? Goes from idiot author to moronic teacher to love sick slut puppy?
And why him? Why him! Why would Gilderoy fall in love with him?
He had always hated Lockheart. Always. There was just something about that stupid, moronic man that made Snape want to pummel him. Hard. With a big mace. With poison tipped spikes. Ah, a boy could dream, couldn’t he?
Snape ran away quickly through the Muggle town. He considered aparating, but didn’t think it would go over very well with Dumbledore should he be caught. But then what to do? How would he escape this lovesick idiot? He ran for a little longer until a sign in front of him made him stop in his tracks.
‘Escape the ones that love you,’ the sign read, ‘trust in Madame Natasha!’ This was perfect! Snape ran in to the large house. The front porch was built of Cherry Oak, and it was polished to a high gleam. It reminded Snape of dried blood. He smiled.
In the house, a large, large man greeted him. The man had several chins and was bigger than a beached whale. How the man was able to walk around was beyond Snape, but he didn’t care. Escaping his loved one was exactly the thing he wanted to do, and if this was the place for it, so be it!
“Hello, dear!” said the man in a high falsetto, “I am Madame Natasha!”
“But you can’t be!”
“I can’t be Madame Natasha?” Natasha laughed, “Why is that, may I ask?”
“Because you’re a man!” Snape practically screamed.
“Oh, but you ARE a fresh one! We can always make room for the rough and rowdy. A lot of our boys like that sort of thing.”
“A lot of your .boys?”
“Why yes! Our Boys. Although some wear tiaras and like to be called Queens, they are still boys. Isn’t youth just succulent?”
Reality was dawning on Snape. “This is a . Whorehouse for boys?”
“There you go, dear, you’re getting it now. What’s your name, honey?”
“Dear God, where do you people come from!” Snape bellowed.
“Little long for a name don’t you think?” Natasha smiled. “Perhaps we should just call you God. But are you THAT good, dearie? One should hope so. There are a lot of men who’d pay to play the skin flute of God, wouldn’t you say?”
“No ” Snape whispered, “This isn’t what I wanted!”
“It never is, dear, now head on up those stairs and rest a spell. There’s a boy.”
Snape, normally in control of his body, mind and spirit, found himself obeying Natasha. He saw his feet step one foot in front of the other and head towards the open door of a bedroom. He heard someone enter the Whorehouse on the landing below and Natasha talking to him.
“ Really sir, I think he’s suffering from shock . Believe that this exists I guess .find someone to be gentle .have to break him in .his first time ”
A voice Snape thought he recognised answered “I’ll take care of it.”
Snape closed the door behind him and looked around the room. It was gorgeous! The black wood of the bed, dresser and vanity gleamed with darkness. The room also brought Snape back to his senses. Who would have thought there was a gay community in England? How long had it been around? Had there always been one?
Snape had heard stories, of course, but never would he have imagined anything like this, on this scale! The black had brought him back, he thought. How odd that a colour with such darkness would speak to him so? He laughed out loud. Considering his past and who he had become, he shouldn’t find it odd at all.
There was a knock on the door and a boy entered, naked from the waist up. He smiled shyly and put a pitcher of hot tea on the bedside table. “Some tea, my Lord?” said the boy. His voice was husky and smooth like water flowing over rocks. Snape felt a stirring in his trousers.
“Yes.” He uttered thickly. “That would be nice.”
“I can think of other things that are nice, my Lord. Perhaps, soon, you will let me show you?” The stirring in Snape’s trousers was growing more solid.
“Yes, that would be wonderful.”
The boy smiled, and left the room. Snape was beside himself. He had never felt this way before. Perhaps it was being surrounded by so much raw sexuality? No one had ever expressed sexual interest in him before and now here he was accepting sexual favours? How could he fancy men? He should fancy women, shouldn’t he?
The truth was, however, that he had never thought about it. He had never had sex, nor any sexual desire for anyone. Until now.
His throat felt dry and parched, so he poured himself a sweet cup of hot tea. As he drank, he imagined the boy naked from the waist down. Now there was a sight that his brain was glad to see. He felt himself go completely hard in his trousers, but it didn’t matter anymore.
The tea finished, Snape lay down for a quiet nap. He closed his eyes, again picturing the boy servant that had entered his room. Except the boy did not have his own face, but the face of Gilderoy Lockheart.
Lockhearts long flowing blonde hair bounced in curls below his shoulders, his blue-grey eyes shone with a passion that Snape found maddening. His lips, pursed in an inviting smile, were wide and sensual. Full of soft promise. Snape came to a realisation then: he was in love with Gilderoy Lockheart. Stupid, moronic, idiotic Lockheart.
This man, this beauty, had aroused such passion in him that he could not ignore it. He moaned out loud as the Gilderoy in his dreams reached out to touch him. Snape felt hands unbuttoning his shirt. He opened is eyes.
Gilderoy stood naked in front of him. His body was finely sculpted and it made Snape salivate. Gilderoys nipples stood out, erect in the cold room. Snape let his gaze travel down to his hard stomach and then below his waistline. Other things were erect, by the looks of it. He had a body to die for. Snape felt like doing exactly that right now.
Gilderoy, for his part, was still unbuttoning Snape's shirt. Snape tried to help, tried to get his arms out of the shirt; but found he couldn’t move. “The tea?” he whispered.
“I couldn’t take any chances.” Gilderoy answered. “I wasn’t sure you’d be willing. You might have hurt yourself if you had resisted.” He smiled. “Your body is unable to move, but you will be able to feel everything. You will love this, I promise you.”
Snape felt his clothes being gently pulled off of him, his penis standing to attention and heard a loud moan escape from his lips when Gilderoy lowered his hot mouth to his left nipple.
Is this what love is like? He thought. His body spasm with pleasure as Gilderoy continued to explore Snape's body with his tongue and fingers and eyes.
No, he thought. This is Divine Ecstasy.