Title: A Sunday Evening Spent At Home
Pairings: Fred/George/Percy
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The twins pay Percy a visit.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter.
Warnings/Kinks: Non-con, incest, double penetration, pseudo-voyeurism, explicit.
Challenge word:
quidnunc \KWID-nuhngk\, noun:
One who is curious to know everything that passes; one who knows or pretends to know all that is going on; a gossip; a busybody.
The nosey little quidnunc in 3B stuck her ear to the wall and listened in on the prim young man next-door as he begged and screamed and the bedsprings squealed, his headboard banging violently into flimsy plaster.
He was usually so unnoticeable-so quiet, so utterly ordinary that she’d almost despised him; there’d been absolutely nothing scandalous about him: he was exhaustingly courteous-starched and stuffy and unbearably proper; he never played loud music or brought anybody by, or stumbled home mind-meltingly drunk at three in the morning when all respectable people were long-since sound asleep (which is more than she can say for Mr. Jerkins from down the hall-and, oh, what an awful, horrible man Mr. Jerkins is! It’s fantastic. She has so many stories to tell about that man that she’s lost count. Her best friends Bertie and Samantha come talk with her every Tuesday morning at Sal’s Café, and her news of the appalling antics of the people in her building always tops theirs).
But the point was that she’d never managed to get a single piece of gossip on the redhead in 5B-not a scrap of anything untoward, not even a hint-until today.
Oh, how glorious, how wonderful that she’d finally found something to pick at about him! She’d been beginning to worry he might never do anything she disapproved of.
And what he was doing today was simply despicable-unforgivable; she had never even dreamed he could possibly be so indecent! It made her skin tingle just thinking about how appalled her friends would be when she told them all about this!
It had all started when she’d heard footsteps in the hall over the low hum of the Sunday soaps on the telly; she’d immediately put down her knitting, creeping over to the door and peering into the peephole just in time to catch a glimpse of two men walking past her door and to the next.
They were tall-very tall, actually, and handsome, if you were into red hair. She wasn’t, of course-such an undignified color! Her second husband had been a redhead, and she’d hated him until the day he died.
They were young men, that much was clear; they were also very obviously related: identical twins. They had the look of the boy in 5B about them; same pale, pale, skin, and the hair, of course, and a certain pink softness in their pouty bottom lips that matched her neighbor’s almost exactly. They all three of them had to be brothers-even the lines of their jaws were the same! Yes, undoubtedly brothers. How extraordinarily interesting-she hadn’t known 5B had any family.
They knocked on 5B’s door loudly, with a careless, impatient sort of force that she immediately found reason to dislike.
When the door opened, 5B had sounded uncomfortably surprised-and upset. Very interesting; oh, how she wished she could have seen what he had looked like when he opened the door! As it was, she had to settle for hearing him through the thin wood saying, “Fred, George-what-? What are you doing here?”
“What,” started one nastily; “surprised we tracked you down, Percy? Thought you could hide out forever?”
Percy! That was his name. She’d forgotten. He was so very easy to forget.
“I-” started Percy.
“Honestly, big brother,” said one of the twins, interrupting-and was that sarcasm she heard?-“you should watch out for who’s listening to you when you Floo. It’s easy enough to follow you from there.”
“Quiet, quiet, both of you!-this is a muggle building. People could be listening!” hissed Percy.
And just what did they mean by listening to the flu, and what sort of building was this? It just didn’t make any sense. Maybe they were on drugs, like Mrs. Carter-from-the-third-floor’s grandson, Murphy (who’d been busted with them in the loo at school last Thursday). It was despicable, that’s what it was, the way children behaved nowadays!
“Well, aren’t you going to invite us in?” asked one.
“I-fine. Fine, then, come in.” He didn’t sound very happy about it.
She pressed her ear to the wall to hear them as they entered; the door closed and was locked, and then Percy said, “Let me get a silencing spell up-”
(What on earth was he talking about? Yes, definitely on drugs.)
And then there was a startled “Oomph!” and a definite thud, and, oh, my, wasn’t this family drama just divine?
“That’s for the fight with Dad,” said one.
An odd noise-a kick? A punch? She wished she could see-and a hurt “Ah!”
“And that’s for sending the jumper home and making Mum cry,” said the other.
“Is this what you came here for?” wheezed Percy.
“To beat me up-to make yourselves feel better? Is that it?”
This was better than the soaps!
“Not nearly,” said one, and then there was another weird noise; a second of silence and then-
“Mmph!” she heard, and a few more noises she couldn’t place.
Oh, what were they doing, what were they doing?
“You kissed me!” said Percy, outraged.
“You bloody kissed me!” he repeated.
“And I’m going to do it again,” said the twin, and then she heard, “Mmph! Mmph!” and what had to have been the sound of being shoved into a wall; of being kissed; of struggling.
“Get off me!” shouted Percy after a few seconds.
“George?” started a twin.
“Get his pants. I’ll take care of his shirt.”
“Right.”
“Hey! Hey! Stop it! Stop it, I said!”
More noises. He was trying to get away.
This was the singular most immoral, disturbing, disgusting thing she had ever heard. She could hardly believe it! She loved every filthy second of it more than she could say.
“Let’s get him into the bedroom,” said one of the twins.
“I’ll get his legs,” said the other.
She rushed to her bedroom at a dead run; it shared a wall with his-she’d be able to hear everything.
“Let go of me! Let go of me now and we’ll pretend this never happened, okay?! Okay?! Let go!”
She bet he was squirming in their hands. She bet he was hurting himself trying to escape-that fair skin, a delicate milk-pale, would bruise marvelously. Later, he would probably be able to make out every individual fingerprint; map out every unwanted touch.
The bed groaned. She heard a gasp.
Had they taken his underwear off? Was he looking at their cocks and wondering what they would do, if it would fit?
“Please don’t do this!” he begged.
A resistant pop; were they opening up a bottle of lube? Were they spreading his legs; holding his arse-cheeks open?
“We can still pretend this never happened! Just don’t-oh, oh God, oh God, oh God, please, please don’t, please, I don’t, I can’t-please take it out, I-”
“Shh, shh, it’s not as bad as all that! It’s just a finger. Just one little finger. Relax.”
“I-please, please, take it out-”
“If you relax, it won’t hurt as much. Trust me.”
“Please just stop-oh fucking God, take those out of me-!”
“We need to stretch you.”
“Don’t worry, we’re using plenty of lube.”
“…You’ll need it. Now, relax.”
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease-”
“One more, d’ya think, George?”
“…Maybe two more. We’re going to be putting a lot in there.”
“Oh, God, please-”
“He’s so fucking tight. Come here and feel this, he’s like a vice.”
“-don’t-ah, ah!-”
“Jesus. And that’s with four fingers inside him! I think we might need to cast a muscle-relaxation spell on him just to get us both inside.”
“-both?! Oh, God-”
Muscle-relaxation spell? She didn’t know what they meant, but that wasn’t important. Both of them were going to be inside him? At the same time?! Oh, God. She’d never felt so aroused in all her life. Oh, God.
One of them said a bit of mumbly-jumbly that might have been Latin, and she heard a grunt, and Percy screamed.
One of the twins was inside him, she just knew it.
Percy was naked and upset and impaled on his brother’s cock; he was being fucked.
“Come on, Percy, it’s not so bad,” said one of the twins; the bedsprings made terrible noises, and Percy did, too.
She wondered if the other twin was stroking his cock in time to his brothers’ fucking. He probably was. Maybe he was kissing one of them? Maybe he was fondling Percy’s cock. She wished she knew.
“It’s okay,” said a twin. “Stop crying. You’re not a goddamn girl.”
And Percy was crying, she could hear it. She’d never heard crying like that before.
“Stop, stop, I don’t want-”
“This isn’t about what you want,” said one of the twins.
“This is about what you deserve.”
“I’ll never forgive you for this, either of you. Never.”
“That’s good. We-”
“-don’t want your forgiveness.”
“Move your leg, would you, Fred? Yes, right there, that’s good-”
“FUCK!”
“That’s the idea, yeah.”
Oh, oh, wow. They were both inside of him. His brother’s cocks were inside of him, stretching him, filling him. Amazing.
“Christ, this is tight-uh-fuck, and this is with a relaxation-spell on him? We would’ve split him in half without it.”
“How fucking tense are you, Percy? Relax, would you?”
She could hear Percy sobbing.
“Shit, is he bleeding?”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll heal him when we’re done.”
“I thought you said we weren’t going to heal him?”
“…Maybe just a little. He won’t be able to walk for a while, otherwise.”
“Do we care?”
“…No. No, I don’t suppose we do. He’ll have to heal it himself.”
“I’m going-oh God, God, it hurts-I’m going to fucking kill both of you!-fuckfuckfuck, oh, God-do you hear me?! I’m going to-ow, God, God damn it, oh, please, please, it hurts-”
“Shh, Percy. Since when do you talk that way, huh? And besides, we all know you’d never get away with it. Now calm down.”
“Jesus, George, I love the way your prick feels against mine. This feels so good. Oh, yes!”
“I’ll report you both to the Ministry for this! You’ll both be arrested!” hitched Percy pathetically.
She didn’t know what ministry he was talking about, and she didn’t care; their nonsense-talk was hardly even noticeable, anymore.
She wondered how hard Percy was. She wondered how far his arsehole had to have been stretched to hold both his brothers’ cocks. Was George licking and pinching Percy’s nipples into stiff little peaks? Was lube dripping onto the bed? Was Fred pulling Percy’s hair and leaving hickeys on his neck he’d be forced to wear for weeks?
Oh, how dearly she wished she could see them!
One of the twins laughed.
“Are you actually going to report this, big brother? Are you going to tattle? Are you going to tell everybody all about how your little brothers forced their big hard cocks inside you and you cried like a baby? Do you want everyone to know you’ve been our whore? Does that turn you on?”
“No.”
“Then shut up.”
“George, could you move a little to the-yeah, yeah, thanks. You always know what I want.”
A brief silence, and then-“You’re both disgusting.”
“Why, you want a kiss, too, Percy? You want our mouths on you?”
“Shut your mouth right now-OH, FUCK, what was that?”
“You like that, huh, Percy? You like us fucking you, hitting your prostate? You want more?”
“No, no-”
“But look how hard you are. You’re ready to cum all over yourself, aren’t you? You want this.”
“No! Stop-stop!”
“I bet if we touched your cock right now you’d-”
“…fuck…”
“Well, well, well, you seem to have made a mess of yourself, haven’t you?”
“Got a fair bit on me, too. I might have to make him lick it off. Oh-oh, yes, stay just like that, stay-yeah, yeah, bloody brilliant, just like-oh, yeah, oh, yeah!”
The sound of breathing; of recovery.
“I guess you’ve got sloppy seconds, ey, Fred?”
“Nothing wrong with that,” said Fred.
The headboard was smashing into the wall frantically. It was getting kind of hard to hear what they were saying, but it was worth it.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thumpthumpTHUMP, and then she could hear Fred say, “Oh, yeah, this is it, this-oh, yes, yes!”
She could hear panting; an eerie stillness.
Were the twins moving out of him, now? Could Percy even look at them?
“We’re even, now,” said a twin.
“Yeah, even,” echoed the other.
“Get the fuck out of my flat,” said Percy.
He was quiet a very long time after they left.
Eventually, she went back to the telly and her comfy armchair.
She decides to keep this all to herself.