(no subject)
Rating: N-17
Warning: Sexual Acts, Graphic Descriptions
Pairings: Harry/George (? is that all?)
Summary: Pretty straighforward, really. Its every HP fanfic writers bread and butter- a good old LOVE POTION gone wrong.
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As usual, it had all started with a joke.
George chuckled to himself as he mixed the potion, checking quickly to make sure the fire crackling underneath was still controlled. He was sure fire in the dormitories was a no-no, but then, so was the potion bubbling above it. George grinned evilly. This would be a killer way to pay back Fred.
The twins didn’t normally play jokes on each other, but it was agreed that a prank every now and then did each other good. Stopped their heads getting too big, they had mutually decided.
Famous last words, George scowled as he remembered Fred’s practical joke last week- a joke which had involved Quidditch practise, George’s training robes and a large quantity of birdfeed. George had beaten off twittering birds for half an hour, skilfully ignoring their feeble assault on his suspended body, until finally, a large flock of the schools Barn Owls soared over to peck at Georges back. Only then did George investigate the matter and tear off his robes to find birdfeed stuffed in the lining.
George later insisted on doing a bit of stuffing himself, involving his broomstick and Fred’s various orifices.
Lee Jordan entered the dormitory with an air of some urgency. “Hey Fred.”
“I’m George.” George corrected, trying not to snap. He did enjoy fooling people into thinking he was Fred from time to time, but after sixteen years of mistaken identity, the joke was starting to wear thin. Sometimes, George seriously hated being a twin.
“Right. George. Sorry.” Lee muttered absently, looking through his trunk for something or other. He didn’t stop and ask George about the lit fire or the cauldron happily steaming above it. Lee was by now used to the twins loopy experiments and simply smiled and waved goodbye to George as he left the room clutching a shoe box, which was rattling ominously.
“Bye Fred.”
“George!” George muttered crossly when Lee had closed the door. He seethed for a moment before turning his attention back to his work. Irritably, he threw a fistful of fairy-wings into the mixture.
The potion in Georges cauldron turned rather suddenly from baby blue to violet and a gleeful smile lit up the stormy features of Georges face, making him look much more like his usual cheerful self. The Love Potion was almost ready. He could serve it up right now, and the unfortunate drinker would fall instantly in love with the first person in sight. Unless, of course, the potion was further prepared to make the drinker fall in love with a specific person. With an evil smirk, George produced from his pocket a gleaming ginger lock of hair and stroked it with his thumb. The hour was close at hand.
He dropped Fred’s flaming red lock into the cauldron and the potion immediately turned hot pink. George frowned. It was meant to be a light, shimmering pink, a tender colour to reflect the tender feeling of love. For the first time since he came up with the plan, George hesitated. Maybe the potion was too strong?
Nah, George shrugged and began distilling the potion into an empty butter-beer bottle. Fred was just a bloke of strong character, the potion must have taken a strong reaction to his lock of hair.
Yes, that must be it, George reasoned as he considered who to slip the potion to. He wanted the joke to be good enough to pay Fred back, but a joke the twins could laugh about together later.
He fleetingly considered feeding the potion to Snape. “Too far” George chuckled as he envisioned a love-struck Snape pursuing a confused and terrified Fred around the castle. He would deserve another Quidditch practice with the barn owls pecking him to death if he were to set Snape on his own brother. Maybe even a Thestral or two.
So who then? Filch? George scrunched up his face and thought hard. Nah. Filch’d probably get to the bottom of it once the potion wore off and Fred might cop the blame. Even if George did own up to it, Fred’d still be in the shit (I mean, thought George grimly, when has Filch ever payed attention to WHOSE fault things are around here?).
So then, who? Who?
George sat onto the bed, his face screwed up in concentration as he thought about who best to slip the innocent little bottle containing possibly the best single-handed joke George had ever pulled. A knock on the dorm door interrupted Georges mentally constructed list of possibilities.
“Fred? George?” The door swung open. Harry Potter was standing in the doorway, in his school robes and looking thoroughly fed up. He had clearly been cooped up in the common room all day doing homework.
George sat up and raised his eyebrows, his mind reeling. Oh, this was too perfect. Beyond perfect, really, it was sodding brilliant. I mean, thought George, Harry could surely take a joke and it wasn’t nearly as sick as setting Snape or Filch on his twin. And on the plus side, Fred would be bloody disturbed by Harry’s advances. Although… No… no, no way. George couldn’t do that to his twin and little brothers best friend. He wasn’t that evil, certainly not.
George grinned.
“…just wondering if I could borrow your potions book, but I can see you’re using it. I’ll see if I can get one at the library.” Harry finished gloomily, making to leave. Making up his mind on impulse, George leapt off the bed to stop him.
“Hey! Hey, wait Harry!” George seized him by the arm and pressed the Butterbeer bottle into his hand. “You look like you’ve been studying for hours. Relax, take a load off, have a break.” George beamed into Harry’s face and Harry staggered back as if the brightness of Georges eager grin was blinding him. He blinked a few times before grinning tentatively back into Georges dazzling smile.
“Thanks,” Harry obligingly took a sip from the bottle and his eyes widened. “Hey… this is fantastic!” he exclaimed, taking another few gulps. Somehow it tasted exactly like treacle tart, smelt like flowers and had a kind of woody kick at the back of the throat. “…Wow… is this really Butterbeer?”
“Some Irish stuff we got off Oliver.” George invented, trying not to smirk triumphantly as Harry drained the bottle. When he was done, Harry smiled appreciatively and made to hand the bottle back to George. As Harry was extending his hand, his smile fell slack and he blinked stupidly a few times as if something large and heavy had just struck him in the back of the head.
George hesitated and stopped breathing for a moment as fear paralysed his insides as he remembered the odd colour of the potion earlier. If the potion hadn’t been mixed right… was Harry in any serious danger? Was it possible to become seriously ill because of a Love Potion?
The next moment, Harry’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head and his muscles seemed to spasm as he lowered his lids. George was about to start yelling for help when a husky breath escaped Harry’s lips.
“Fred…” he whispered, his eyes fluttering beneath their lids. His shaking muscles relaxed as he let that beautiful, terrible name drip all over his skin.
George nearly whooped in relief and then bit back a laugh as he watched Harry lean against the bedpost with his eyes shut, squirming as if ants were crawling all over him. This was already going brilliantly and he couldn’t wait to see what happened when Fred got up here. This was going to be…
“Fred?”
George snapped his attention back to Harry. Harry was flushed and sweating, leaning forward and breathing heavily like he had just run a marathon.
And… he was staring at George.
George blinked a few times, confused as hell, caught between wondering whether or not to laugh or bolt. Harry flicked out a pink tongue and licked his lips seductively and George felt his stomach leap. He hadn’t seen this coming. George cursed inwardly and for the second time in ten minutes, truly hated being a twin. Harry growled.
George let out a nervous laugh as Harry advanced on him, licking his lips repeatedly and (George was amused and mortified to see) sporting a painfully obvious erection. Harry came to within a foot of George and George threw up his hands to hold Harry back. He laughed a little to lighten up the situation, but the determined look in Harry’s eyes was making George feel uneasy.
“Harry, no you don’t understand.” George tried to explain. “You think you’re in love with me, but you’re not.” Harry blinked and inhaled sharply, turning his head from side to side slowly, keeping his blazing green eyes on Georges deep blue ones.
“No…” Harry said slowly, trying to take another step towards George, not seeming to notice Georges arms working as a barrier between them. “Not…love… just… want… just… need to… fuck you… screw you senseless…”
George flushed, feeling truly uncomfortable and it was with a wry smile that he regretted Fred not being in his place. It had been such a good idea for a joke after all.
“Harry, you great sodding git, you’ve taken a love potion. It’s me, George. I’m not Fred.” He added hurriedly, jerking away from Harry’s outstretched hand, which was attempting to entwine itself in George’s flaming red locks. Harry blinked. For a moment, George hoped Harry understood. But only one word of George’s desperate explanation seemed to have penetrated Harry’s faux-love struck brain.
“Fred?”
George groaned in frustration and let out a weak chuckle as Harry kept pushing his weight insistently against Georges hands. George could feel Harry’s nipples teasing his palms through the fabric of his shirt and quickly yanked his hands away.
This turned out to be a grave mistake, as it gave Harry the opportunity to bring his body far closer into George’s personal space than was strictly acceptable. George tried to throw up his hands at the last moment, but merely ended up with his elbows pressed against his chest and his wrists under his chin, pinned to his front between two bodies, one of which was increasing in heat at an alarming rate.
“Harry, gerroff me!” George squirmed. “You idiot, I’m not-” George didn’t get to finish telling Harry exactly who he was not, as Harry threw his weight rather forcefully into George, pinning them both against Lees bedpost.
Harry looked George up and down, from the startling blue eyes, usually sparkling with mischief and right now twinkling with apprehension and fear, roaming his eyes to the lovely, ample frame of a Beater. Thick, muscled arms and taught thighs. Harry groaned and George shrank against the bedpost.
Harry gazed at Georges wisecracking, stunning, juicy mouth for a moment before sighing with bliss and plunging himself inside.
Harry moaned at the taste, at the feeling of Georges mouth against his own. George’s eyes widened in shock as he felt Harry’s heated body press against his own, so hot even through a school uniform and robes. Harry tangled one hand in Georges hair while the other expertly worked the clasp holding his own robe together. With a final flick, it slipped, tumbling over Harry’s shoulders and puddling at his feet.
George gasped as Harry pushed his hips against George- Harry clearly had a straining erection and was now attempting to get a similar effect from George by rubbing him through his school slacks. George was appalled at Harry for knowing such skills and even more appalled at himself for enjoying it so damn much.
George relaxed into the kiss without really thinking, letting sweet, blissful ignorance relax his body and allowing Harry to explore his mouth. George breathed in Harry’s scent and taste… Harry tasted like honey, morning toothpaste and… and…
George groaned as he tasted and remembered the Love Potion on Harry’s tongue. Or, more specifically, George tasted firewhiskey and orange sherbert, mingled with the smoky smell of blown out birthday candles, all Georges favourite sensations. It was the Love Potion all right. Regardless of who had initiated this frankly fucking brilliant snogging, Harry was still under influence of a Love Potion. And while George was enough of a bastard to use love potion for the simple amusement of watching his twin and friend make complete arses of themselves, he was NOT enough of an evil shit to seduce Harry while he was so clearly magically manipulated like this.
George pulled out of Harry’s delicious kiss with difficulty. Harry whimpered and continued trying to bite and suck at Georges lips, as if he were in pain and only Georges mouth offered sweet relief.
“Harry, no.” George murmured, pushing Harry firmly away. Harry blinked and staggered forwards to seize George again, but George darted away, over to his own bed. Harry’s face lit up as he practically skipped over to join George standing by the made up four poster. George didn’t seem to cotton on, and concentrated simply on getting his message across to a hormonally-addled Harry, as well as slowing the beating of his own blood.
“Harry. We’re not doing this.” George said firmly, not daring to look into Harry’s beautiful, blazing green eyes. “It’s not happening. It stops. Now.” George folded his arms looking stern, whereas a clearly crestfallen Harry looked close to tears.
“You don’t… you don’t want me?” Harry whispered, eyes sparkling.
“No.” George lied, trying to ignore the leaping feeling his cock gave in protest. “I don’t want you, Harry. I don’t want to do this.”
There was silence in the dorm, and George was now seriously regretting his choice of a practical joke. Between his confused feelings towards Harry right now, and the knowledge of how bloody awkward it would be when the potion finally wore off, George firmly decided that next time he played a trick on Fred, it would involve wartcap powder, Fred’s underwear drawer and nothing else.
As George was wallowing in the predicted aftermath of his un-thought out joke, something tackled him to the bed, leaving him quite winded. George had no doubts as to what that ‘something’ could be.
“Harry-” George turned onto his back to look up at Harry and started when he realised Harry was crying. Actually crying, tears falling down his face and dripping onto George’s cheek and neck. George blinked and tried to sit up, but Harry pinned him down, his arms either side of George’s neck, and it was with a sob that Harry lowered his lips onto Georges for the second time.
“I’m sorry.” Harry whispered as he lowered the rest of his body flush with Georges. George jumped as he felt something grasp his thigh. Harry’s hand was expertly working its way up between their bodies, flicking open buckles, zips and buttons as it went. George bucked and writhed away to no avail.
“Harry… stop!... you cant… you don’t know… STOP!” George babbled as the hand slowly undid the buttons of Georges school shirt. Harry sighed sadly and licked Georges neck.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But I have to. I need to. Please understand, Fred, please just relax, it’ll be good, I promise.” Harry nibbled delicately at Georges freckled skin, having just gained access to the collarbone and chest.
“Harry, stop, stop NOW, before I cant stop myself!” George pleaded weakly, but Harry wasn’t hearing any of it. He was far too occupied with the lavish licking of Georges chest, drinking in the redheads delighted squeal as he ran his tongue over the perky nipple.
George’s head was spinning as sparks of pleasure and guilt ignited his body. This was wrong, this was so wrong. He couldn’t let Harry seduce him... or was it that he couldn’t seduce Harry while he was under the influence of a love potion? It was his own fault Harry was taking advantage of him, or that he was taking advantage of Harry...
George bucked involuntarily as Harry quite suddenly slipped a hand into Georges Gryffindor-red boxers and wrapped his hand around his cock. Harry moved his hand up and down Georges shaft, delighting in the tortured little noises the red-head made. “Harry…” George moaned as he arched his hips up into Harry’s grasp, forgetting trying to figure out exactly who was seducing who here and simply let instinct and desire take control of the situation, ignoring the guilty churn his guts gave as Harry gleefully pinned his knees down on either side of Georges waist and pulled his school shirt away from his body.
His fly was already open and the plain cotton underwear was straining through the open zip. Without a moments hesitation, Harry plunged his hand inside and pulled out his cock, throbbing red and already glistening with sweat and precome. George let his head fall back onto the bed and moaned as his hips bucked up automatically. Harry made a delighted squealing noise, threw himself bodily upon George and began to ravish his body.
George got the feeling that Harry simply couldn’t decide which part of him to best focus his attentions- as soon as Harry started licking at one part of Georges body, he would squeak or moan or swear and attack another part with renewed vigour. George couldn’t say he objected, mind you.
He let his body relax under Harry’s mouth and simply enjoyed all the different sensations and attentions Harry was giving him. Harry’s face was alight, his expression similar to that of a child been set loose in a giant candy store. He wanted, he craved, he didn’t think he’s ever been so aroused in his life. He paused rather suddenly in his focused licking of George’s belly button and turned his head up to the flushed redhead.
“I want you…” Harry murmured, trailing a hand down into Georges coarse ginger hair. George bucked his hips and Harry shot out a hand to steady them. “Please…I want to taste you, let me…please…” Harry groaned, entwining his fingers in the hair and shaking with arousal. The cock protruding from the thatch of red curls jumped and quivered as George bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut, nodding frantically.
Harry eagerly licked a line up Georges shaft and opened his mouth, relaxing his throat in preparation for the intrusion of George’s hardness. George moaned and reached forwards, twisting Harry’s head by his jet-black hair, turning Harry up to face him.
“I want you too.” George panted, hating himself with every syllable. What he was about to do was so wrong, so wrong, but when Harry looked at him like that, his face pouring sweat and flushed with desire, George found it the hardest thing in the world to care that what he was about to was wrong. He stared hard into Harry’s confused green eyes, until a spark of realisation lit up behind them. Grinning, Harry swung his body around, straddling George on his hands and knees, so that he was facing George’s legs and George, Harry’s arse.
“Ready?” George asked wretchedly, unable to resist slapping Harry lightly on the bum. Harry groaned and rubbed back into Georges palm. George chuckled in spite of the (somewhat dying) flicker of guilt in his gut and reached under and between Harry’s legs to fondle his balls.
Harry howled and shuddered but forced himself to hold still so that George could continue working his fingers around Harry’s groin, letting his long white fingers disappear into Harry’s dark curls. He bought his hand up to cup around Harry’s erection and Harry was unable to contain a swift thrust into the warm tunnel of George’s hand.
George couldnt help laughing as he lowered himself under Harry’s body and guided Harry back to hover over his mouth. His warm breath teased Harry’s balls and Harry moaned, falling onto his elbows so that the head of George’s cock brushed against his chin. George cried out at the unexpected sensation, trying to arch his hips under Harry’s weight. “Oh Gods, Harry, do it, please, do it now!” George gasped as Harry enveloped his cock into his warm, wet mouth.
George fumbled his arms around Harry’s backside, bringing Harry’s waist to meet his own face, sucking Harry’s cock into his own mouth. Harry moaned and the vibrations made Georges hips shake frantically. George worked Harry’s cock into his throat, gagging every now and then, but otherwise doing a fairly good job. The soft flesh of Harry’s sac was pressed against Georges nose, allowing him to breathe Harry’s musk. It was even sweeter than the seductive scents of the love potion.
“You smell so fucking good…” George breathed, but Harry only moaned again, either in appreciation of Georges words or in frustration of George’s mouth having left his heat, it was hard to tell. George hastily swallowed Harry’s cock again, eliciting a surprised cry from Harry, which felt amazing around his cock.
The boys worked at each others cocks frantically in the four poster bed, not even bothering to draw the scarlet curtains. George and Harry were timing their thrusting and sucking and bobbing in perfect unison, both approaching orgasm at lightning speed. George felt his body begin to flush and spasm and he knew he would be the first to come. Harry continued sucking diligently at his cock as the tell-tale tingles started around Georges balls.
George slammed his head into the bed and shouted as sparks shot across his eyes and through his groin. He could feel his orgasm leaving him in pulses and could hear Harry moaning and lapping up his emission. “Fuck, you taste bloody amazing…” Harry panted, licking lightly around Georges groin. His own straining cock hovering insistently over Georges head. “Please, fuck, please, take it again, I need to come, please let me-” Harry made a strangled choking sound as George slid his cock into his throat again and sucked, rubbing Harry’s balls and arse and every bit of him he could reach while Harry thrashed about, red and sweating and practically sobbing in pleasure.
“Oh fuck! Oh- oh GOD!” Harry screamed as his cock started throbbing in that way it did right before he came. “George! Oh, god, oh fuck, oh GEORGE!” He shrieked, his body shaking and bucking uncontrollably.
“Wha?-” George spluttered and choked as thick pulses of semen shot down his throat. He swallowed impatiently and detached himself from Harry’s hardness, allowing the dark haired boy to recover while George sat against the headboard of his bed, his mind spinning.
When Harry recovered, he looked up at George guiltily.
“You… called me George.” George stated blandly. If Harry’s skin hadn’t already been flushed with arousal, George guessed Harry might have been blushing. “You knew? For how long?”
Harry shrugged, fingering a bit of tousled blanket on the bed and grinned to himself. “About halfway through, I guess. Just before we…” Harry gestured to the aftermath of their Sixty-Nine position. “It just… I dunno, I just kind of realised that you were George, and everything you said before about the Love Potion kind of hit me and…” Harry seemed to struggle to find the right words. “It didn’t bother me.” He finished simply. Harry bit his lip and looked sideways at George. “I thought about stopping, you know. When I realised. But you didn’t seem so resistant by then.” Harry told George slyly. “It didn’t seem to bother you either.”
“No, I guess it didn’t.” smirked George, eyeing a streak of his own come on Harry’s face. He sighed. “Aren’t you mad about the Love Potion?”
Harry smiled. “You know what? No. Not really. If you hadn’t fed it to me, I might have never had the bollocks to do this.” Harry gestured again to their naked bodies. George smiled, but there was still something niggling at the back of his mind.
“Were you really only doing this because you thought I was Fred? I mean, if it really had been Fred and not me, would you still have done it?” George stared pleadingly into Harry’s thoughtful stare.
“Yes.” Replied Harry honestly.
George felt his heart sink, and more than ever he hated, hated, hated being Fred’s twin. Harry smiled into George’s crestfallen face and cupped his chin.
“But why is that a bad thing?” George forced himself to look into Harry’s eyes, which were wide and open and honest. “You and Fred are twins and gorgeous ones at that. You’re both fucking sexy as hell and the fact there’s two of you... just…” Harry shivered a little. Georges mind started reeling.
“You- you like that? That there’s two of me?” Harry nodded frantically.
Georges stomach leaped.
*
Fred practically crawled up to bed that night, tired, irritated and just wanting to get some sleep. He pushed open the door to his dorm to be greeted by complete silence, informing him that neither George nor Lee (who both snored like a pair of asthmatic warthogs) had come up to bed yet.
Sighing, Fred began to shed his clothes and in doing so, shed the stresses of the day. He had just finished removing his trousers when out of nowhere, a savage pair of lips started attacking his back.
“What the f-” Fred exclaimed before the lips captured his mouth, teasing him, coaxing him to open up. Fred kissed back on impulse, breathing heavily in a matter of moments, totally forgetting the crap day he’d had as he let those lips kiss away the stresses of the day. “Oh George!” they groaned against his mouth.
Fred snapped to attention and reached for his wand. “Lumos!” he hissed as the room lit up and illuminated the startled face of Harry Potter.
“George?” asked Harry tentatively, reaching out for Fred’s hand. Fred groaned and swatted it away, guts churning at this accidentally discovered piece of private information. “Fuck, I hate being a twin.” He sighed to no one in particular.
A dark chuckle from somewhere in the half-lit room made Fred jump. Harry grinned evilly at Fred and peered over his shoulder where a topless George was unpeeling himself from the wall. Harry watched with undisguised lust as George wrapped his arms around his gaping twin.
“You know what, Fred?” George murmured into Fred’s face as Harry groaned at the sight. “I love it.”
Warning: Sexual Acts, Graphic Descriptions
Pairings: Harry/George (? is that all?)
Summary: Pretty straighforward, really. Its every HP fanfic writers bread and butter- a good old LOVE POTION gone wrong.
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As usual, it had all started with a joke.
George chuckled to himself as he mixed the potion, checking quickly to make sure the fire crackling underneath was still controlled. He was sure fire in the dormitories was a no-no, but then, so was the potion bubbling above it. George grinned evilly. This would be a killer way to pay back Fred.
The twins didn’t normally play jokes on each other, but it was agreed that a prank every now and then did each other good. Stopped their heads getting too big, they had mutually decided.
Famous last words, George scowled as he remembered Fred’s practical joke last week- a joke which had involved Quidditch practise, George’s training robes and a large quantity of birdfeed. George had beaten off twittering birds for half an hour, skilfully ignoring their feeble assault on his suspended body, until finally, a large flock of the schools Barn Owls soared over to peck at Georges back. Only then did George investigate the matter and tear off his robes to find birdfeed stuffed in the lining.
George later insisted on doing a bit of stuffing himself, involving his broomstick and Fred’s various orifices.
Lee Jordan entered the dormitory with an air of some urgency. “Hey Fred.”
“I’m George.” George corrected, trying not to snap. He did enjoy fooling people into thinking he was Fred from time to time, but after sixteen years of mistaken identity, the joke was starting to wear thin. Sometimes, George seriously hated being a twin.
“Right. George. Sorry.” Lee muttered absently, looking through his trunk for something or other. He didn’t stop and ask George about the lit fire or the cauldron happily steaming above it. Lee was by now used to the twins loopy experiments and simply smiled and waved goodbye to George as he left the room clutching a shoe box, which was rattling ominously.
“Bye Fred.”
“George!” George muttered crossly when Lee had closed the door. He seethed for a moment before turning his attention back to his work. Irritably, he threw a fistful of fairy-wings into the mixture.
The potion in Georges cauldron turned rather suddenly from baby blue to violet and a gleeful smile lit up the stormy features of Georges face, making him look much more like his usual cheerful self. The Love Potion was almost ready. He could serve it up right now, and the unfortunate drinker would fall instantly in love with the first person in sight. Unless, of course, the potion was further prepared to make the drinker fall in love with a specific person. With an evil smirk, George produced from his pocket a gleaming ginger lock of hair and stroked it with his thumb. The hour was close at hand.
He dropped Fred’s flaming red lock into the cauldron and the potion immediately turned hot pink. George frowned. It was meant to be a light, shimmering pink, a tender colour to reflect the tender feeling of love. For the first time since he came up with the plan, George hesitated. Maybe the potion was too strong?
Nah, George shrugged and began distilling the potion into an empty butter-beer bottle. Fred was just a bloke of strong character, the potion must have taken a strong reaction to his lock of hair.
Yes, that must be it, George reasoned as he considered who to slip the potion to. He wanted the joke to be good enough to pay Fred back, but a joke the twins could laugh about together later.
He fleetingly considered feeding the potion to Snape. “Too far” George chuckled as he envisioned a love-struck Snape pursuing a confused and terrified Fred around the castle. He would deserve another Quidditch practice with the barn owls pecking him to death if he were to set Snape on his own brother. Maybe even a Thestral or two.
So who then? Filch? George scrunched up his face and thought hard. Nah. Filch’d probably get to the bottom of it once the potion wore off and Fred might cop the blame. Even if George did own up to it, Fred’d still be in the shit (I mean, thought George grimly, when has Filch ever payed attention to WHOSE fault things are around here?).
So then, who? Who?
George sat onto the bed, his face screwed up in concentration as he thought about who best to slip the innocent little bottle containing possibly the best single-handed joke George had ever pulled. A knock on the dorm door interrupted Georges mentally constructed list of possibilities.
“Fred? George?” The door swung open. Harry Potter was standing in the doorway, in his school robes and looking thoroughly fed up. He had clearly been cooped up in the common room all day doing homework.
George sat up and raised his eyebrows, his mind reeling. Oh, this was too perfect. Beyond perfect, really, it was sodding brilliant. I mean, thought George, Harry could surely take a joke and it wasn’t nearly as sick as setting Snape or Filch on his twin. And on the plus side, Fred would be bloody disturbed by Harry’s advances. Although… No… no, no way. George couldn’t do that to his twin and little brothers best friend. He wasn’t that evil, certainly not.
George grinned.
“…just wondering if I could borrow your potions book, but I can see you’re using it. I’ll see if I can get one at the library.” Harry finished gloomily, making to leave. Making up his mind on impulse, George leapt off the bed to stop him.
“Hey! Hey, wait Harry!” George seized him by the arm and pressed the Butterbeer bottle into his hand. “You look like you’ve been studying for hours. Relax, take a load off, have a break.” George beamed into Harry’s face and Harry staggered back as if the brightness of Georges eager grin was blinding him. He blinked a few times before grinning tentatively back into Georges dazzling smile.
“Thanks,” Harry obligingly took a sip from the bottle and his eyes widened. “Hey… this is fantastic!” he exclaimed, taking another few gulps. Somehow it tasted exactly like treacle tart, smelt like flowers and had a kind of woody kick at the back of the throat. “…Wow… is this really Butterbeer?”
“Some Irish stuff we got off Oliver.” George invented, trying not to smirk triumphantly as Harry drained the bottle. When he was done, Harry smiled appreciatively and made to hand the bottle back to George. As Harry was extending his hand, his smile fell slack and he blinked stupidly a few times as if something large and heavy had just struck him in the back of the head.
George hesitated and stopped breathing for a moment as fear paralysed his insides as he remembered the odd colour of the potion earlier. If the potion hadn’t been mixed right… was Harry in any serious danger? Was it possible to become seriously ill because of a Love Potion?
The next moment, Harry’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head and his muscles seemed to spasm as he lowered his lids. George was about to start yelling for help when a husky breath escaped Harry’s lips.
“Fred…” he whispered, his eyes fluttering beneath their lids. His shaking muscles relaxed as he let that beautiful, terrible name drip all over his skin.
George nearly whooped in relief and then bit back a laugh as he watched Harry lean against the bedpost with his eyes shut, squirming as if ants were crawling all over him. This was already going brilliantly and he couldn’t wait to see what happened when Fred got up here. This was going to be…
“Fred?”
George snapped his attention back to Harry. Harry was flushed and sweating, leaning forward and breathing heavily like he had just run a marathon.
And… he was staring at George.
George blinked a few times, confused as hell, caught between wondering whether or not to laugh or bolt. Harry flicked out a pink tongue and licked his lips seductively and George felt his stomach leap. He hadn’t seen this coming. George cursed inwardly and for the second time in ten minutes, truly hated being a twin. Harry growled.
George let out a nervous laugh as Harry advanced on him, licking his lips repeatedly and (George was amused and mortified to see) sporting a painfully obvious erection. Harry came to within a foot of George and George threw up his hands to hold Harry back. He laughed a little to lighten up the situation, but the determined look in Harry’s eyes was making George feel uneasy.
“Harry, no you don’t understand.” George tried to explain. “You think you’re in love with me, but you’re not.” Harry blinked and inhaled sharply, turning his head from side to side slowly, keeping his blazing green eyes on Georges deep blue ones.
“No…” Harry said slowly, trying to take another step towards George, not seeming to notice Georges arms working as a barrier between them. “Not…love… just… want… just… need to… fuck you… screw you senseless…”
George flushed, feeling truly uncomfortable and it was with a wry smile that he regretted Fred not being in his place. It had been such a good idea for a joke after all.
“Harry, you great sodding git, you’ve taken a love potion. It’s me, George. I’m not Fred.” He added hurriedly, jerking away from Harry’s outstretched hand, which was attempting to entwine itself in George’s flaming red locks. Harry blinked. For a moment, George hoped Harry understood. But only one word of George’s desperate explanation seemed to have penetrated Harry’s faux-love struck brain.
“Fred?”
George groaned in frustration and let out a weak chuckle as Harry kept pushing his weight insistently against Georges hands. George could feel Harry’s nipples teasing his palms through the fabric of his shirt and quickly yanked his hands away.
This turned out to be a grave mistake, as it gave Harry the opportunity to bring his body far closer into George’s personal space than was strictly acceptable. George tried to throw up his hands at the last moment, but merely ended up with his elbows pressed against his chest and his wrists under his chin, pinned to his front between two bodies, one of which was increasing in heat at an alarming rate.
“Harry, gerroff me!” George squirmed. “You idiot, I’m not-” George didn’t get to finish telling Harry exactly who he was not, as Harry threw his weight rather forcefully into George, pinning them both against Lees bedpost.
Harry looked George up and down, from the startling blue eyes, usually sparkling with mischief and right now twinkling with apprehension and fear, roaming his eyes to the lovely, ample frame of a Beater. Thick, muscled arms and taught thighs. Harry groaned and George shrank against the bedpost.
Harry gazed at Georges wisecracking, stunning, juicy mouth for a moment before sighing with bliss and plunging himself inside.
Harry moaned at the taste, at the feeling of Georges mouth against his own. George’s eyes widened in shock as he felt Harry’s heated body press against his own, so hot even through a school uniform and robes. Harry tangled one hand in Georges hair while the other expertly worked the clasp holding his own robe together. With a final flick, it slipped, tumbling over Harry’s shoulders and puddling at his feet.
George gasped as Harry pushed his hips against George- Harry clearly had a straining erection and was now attempting to get a similar effect from George by rubbing him through his school slacks. George was appalled at Harry for knowing such skills and even more appalled at himself for enjoying it so damn much.
George relaxed into the kiss without really thinking, letting sweet, blissful ignorance relax his body and allowing Harry to explore his mouth. George breathed in Harry’s scent and taste… Harry tasted like honey, morning toothpaste and… and…
George groaned as he tasted and remembered the Love Potion on Harry’s tongue. Or, more specifically, George tasted firewhiskey and orange sherbert, mingled with the smoky smell of blown out birthday candles, all Georges favourite sensations. It was the Love Potion all right. Regardless of who had initiated this frankly fucking brilliant snogging, Harry was still under influence of a Love Potion. And while George was enough of a bastard to use love potion for the simple amusement of watching his twin and friend make complete arses of themselves, he was NOT enough of an evil shit to seduce Harry while he was so clearly magically manipulated like this.
George pulled out of Harry’s delicious kiss with difficulty. Harry whimpered and continued trying to bite and suck at Georges lips, as if he were in pain and only Georges mouth offered sweet relief.
“Harry, no.” George murmured, pushing Harry firmly away. Harry blinked and staggered forwards to seize George again, but George darted away, over to his own bed. Harry’s face lit up as he practically skipped over to join George standing by the made up four poster. George didn’t seem to cotton on, and concentrated simply on getting his message across to a hormonally-addled Harry, as well as slowing the beating of his own blood.
“Harry. We’re not doing this.” George said firmly, not daring to look into Harry’s beautiful, blazing green eyes. “It’s not happening. It stops. Now.” George folded his arms looking stern, whereas a clearly crestfallen Harry looked close to tears.
“You don’t… you don’t want me?” Harry whispered, eyes sparkling.
“No.” George lied, trying to ignore the leaping feeling his cock gave in protest. “I don’t want you, Harry. I don’t want to do this.”
There was silence in the dorm, and George was now seriously regretting his choice of a practical joke. Between his confused feelings towards Harry right now, and the knowledge of how bloody awkward it would be when the potion finally wore off, George firmly decided that next time he played a trick on Fred, it would involve wartcap powder, Fred’s underwear drawer and nothing else.
As George was wallowing in the predicted aftermath of his un-thought out joke, something tackled him to the bed, leaving him quite winded. George had no doubts as to what that ‘something’ could be.
“Harry-” George turned onto his back to look up at Harry and started when he realised Harry was crying. Actually crying, tears falling down his face and dripping onto George’s cheek and neck. George blinked and tried to sit up, but Harry pinned him down, his arms either side of George’s neck, and it was with a sob that Harry lowered his lips onto Georges for the second time.
“I’m sorry.” Harry whispered as he lowered the rest of his body flush with Georges. George jumped as he felt something grasp his thigh. Harry’s hand was expertly working its way up between their bodies, flicking open buckles, zips and buttons as it went. George bucked and writhed away to no avail.
“Harry… stop!... you cant… you don’t know… STOP!” George babbled as the hand slowly undid the buttons of Georges school shirt. Harry sighed sadly and licked Georges neck.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But I have to. I need to. Please understand, Fred, please just relax, it’ll be good, I promise.” Harry nibbled delicately at Georges freckled skin, having just gained access to the collarbone and chest.
“Harry, stop, stop NOW, before I cant stop myself!” George pleaded weakly, but Harry wasn’t hearing any of it. He was far too occupied with the lavish licking of Georges chest, drinking in the redheads delighted squeal as he ran his tongue over the perky nipple.
George’s head was spinning as sparks of pleasure and guilt ignited his body. This was wrong, this was so wrong. He couldn’t let Harry seduce him... or was it that he couldn’t seduce Harry while he was under the influence of a love potion? It was his own fault Harry was taking advantage of him, or that he was taking advantage of Harry...
George bucked involuntarily as Harry quite suddenly slipped a hand into Georges Gryffindor-red boxers and wrapped his hand around his cock. Harry moved his hand up and down Georges shaft, delighting in the tortured little noises the red-head made. “Harry…” George moaned as he arched his hips up into Harry’s grasp, forgetting trying to figure out exactly who was seducing who here and simply let instinct and desire take control of the situation, ignoring the guilty churn his guts gave as Harry gleefully pinned his knees down on either side of Georges waist and pulled his school shirt away from his body.
His fly was already open and the plain cotton underwear was straining through the open zip. Without a moments hesitation, Harry plunged his hand inside and pulled out his cock, throbbing red and already glistening with sweat and precome. George let his head fall back onto the bed and moaned as his hips bucked up automatically. Harry made a delighted squealing noise, threw himself bodily upon George and began to ravish his body.
George got the feeling that Harry simply couldn’t decide which part of him to best focus his attentions- as soon as Harry started licking at one part of Georges body, he would squeak or moan or swear and attack another part with renewed vigour. George couldn’t say he objected, mind you.
He let his body relax under Harry’s mouth and simply enjoyed all the different sensations and attentions Harry was giving him. Harry’s face was alight, his expression similar to that of a child been set loose in a giant candy store. He wanted, he craved, he didn’t think he’s ever been so aroused in his life. He paused rather suddenly in his focused licking of George’s belly button and turned his head up to the flushed redhead.
“I want you…” Harry murmured, trailing a hand down into Georges coarse ginger hair. George bucked his hips and Harry shot out a hand to steady them. “Please…I want to taste you, let me…please…” Harry groaned, entwining his fingers in the hair and shaking with arousal. The cock protruding from the thatch of red curls jumped and quivered as George bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut, nodding frantically.
Harry eagerly licked a line up Georges shaft and opened his mouth, relaxing his throat in preparation for the intrusion of George’s hardness. George moaned and reached forwards, twisting Harry’s head by his jet-black hair, turning Harry up to face him.
“I want you too.” George panted, hating himself with every syllable. What he was about to do was so wrong, so wrong, but when Harry looked at him like that, his face pouring sweat and flushed with desire, George found it the hardest thing in the world to care that what he was about to was wrong. He stared hard into Harry’s confused green eyes, until a spark of realisation lit up behind them. Grinning, Harry swung his body around, straddling George on his hands and knees, so that he was facing George’s legs and George, Harry’s arse.
“Ready?” George asked wretchedly, unable to resist slapping Harry lightly on the bum. Harry groaned and rubbed back into Georges palm. George chuckled in spite of the (somewhat dying) flicker of guilt in his gut and reached under and between Harry’s legs to fondle his balls.
Harry howled and shuddered but forced himself to hold still so that George could continue working his fingers around Harry’s groin, letting his long white fingers disappear into Harry’s dark curls. He bought his hand up to cup around Harry’s erection and Harry was unable to contain a swift thrust into the warm tunnel of George’s hand.
George couldnt help laughing as he lowered himself under Harry’s body and guided Harry back to hover over his mouth. His warm breath teased Harry’s balls and Harry moaned, falling onto his elbows so that the head of George’s cock brushed against his chin. George cried out at the unexpected sensation, trying to arch his hips under Harry’s weight. “Oh Gods, Harry, do it, please, do it now!” George gasped as Harry enveloped his cock into his warm, wet mouth.
George fumbled his arms around Harry’s backside, bringing Harry’s waist to meet his own face, sucking Harry’s cock into his own mouth. Harry moaned and the vibrations made Georges hips shake frantically. George worked Harry’s cock into his throat, gagging every now and then, but otherwise doing a fairly good job. The soft flesh of Harry’s sac was pressed against Georges nose, allowing him to breathe Harry’s musk. It was even sweeter than the seductive scents of the love potion.
“You smell so fucking good…” George breathed, but Harry only moaned again, either in appreciation of Georges words or in frustration of George’s mouth having left his heat, it was hard to tell. George hastily swallowed Harry’s cock again, eliciting a surprised cry from Harry, which felt amazing around his cock.
The boys worked at each others cocks frantically in the four poster bed, not even bothering to draw the scarlet curtains. George and Harry were timing their thrusting and sucking and bobbing in perfect unison, both approaching orgasm at lightning speed. George felt his body begin to flush and spasm and he knew he would be the first to come. Harry continued sucking diligently at his cock as the tell-tale tingles started around Georges balls.
George slammed his head into the bed and shouted as sparks shot across his eyes and through his groin. He could feel his orgasm leaving him in pulses and could hear Harry moaning and lapping up his emission. “Fuck, you taste bloody amazing…” Harry panted, licking lightly around Georges groin. His own straining cock hovering insistently over Georges head. “Please, fuck, please, take it again, I need to come, please let me-” Harry made a strangled choking sound as George slid his cock into his throat again and sucked, rubbing Harry’s balls and arse and every bit of him he could reach while Harry thrashed about, red and sweating and practically sobbing in pleasure.
“Oh fuck! Oh- oh GOD!” Harry screamed as his cock started throbbing in that way it did right before he came. “George! Oh, god, oh fuck, oh GEORGE!” He shrieked, his body shaking and bucking uncontrollably.
“Wha?-” George spluttered and choked as thick pulses of semen shot down his throat. He swallowed impatiently and detached himself from Harry’s hardness, allowing the dark haired boy to recover while George sat against the headboard of his bed, his mind spinning.
When Harry recovered, he looked up at George guiltily.
“You… called me George.” George stated blandly. If Harry’s skin hadn’t already been flushed with arousal, George guessed Harry might have been blushing. “You knew? For how long?”
Harry shrugged, fingering a bit of tousled blanket on the bed and grinned to himself. “About halfway through, I guess. Just before we…” Harry gestured to the aftermath of their Sixty-Nine position. “It just… I dunno, I just kind of realised that you were George, and everything you said before about the Love Potion kind of hit me and…” Harry seemed to struggle to find the right words. “It didn’t bother me.” He finished simply. Harry bit his lip and looked sideways at George. “I thought about stopping, you know. When I realised. But you didn’t seem so resistant by then.” Harry told George slyly. “It didn’t seem to bother you either.”
“No, I guess it didn’t.” smirked George, eyeing a streak of his own come on Harry’s face. He sighed. “Aren’t you mad about the Love Potion?”
Harry smiled. “You know what? No. Not really. If you hadn’t fed it to me, I might have never had the bollocks to do this.” Harry gestured again to their naked bodies. George smiled, but there was still something niggling at the back of his mind.
“Were you really only doing this because you thought I was Fred? I mean, if it really had been Fred and not me, would you still have done it?” George stared pleadingly into Harry’s thoughtful stare.
“Yes.” Replied Harry honestly.
George felt his heart sink, and more than ever he hated, hated, hated being Fred’s twin. Harry smiled into George’s crestfallen face and cupped his chin.
“But why is that a bad thing?” George forced himself to look into Harry’s eyes, which were wide and open and honest. “You and Fred are twins and gorgeous ones at that. You’re both fucking sexy as hell and the fact there’s two of you... just…” Harry shivered a little. Georges mind started reeling.
“You- you like that? That there’s two of me?” Harry nodded frantically.
Georges stomach leaped.
*
Fred practically crawled up to bed that night, tired, irritated and just wanting to get some sleep. He pushed open the door to his dorm to be greeted by complete silence, informing him that neither George nor Lee (who both snored like a pair of asthmatic warthogs) had come up to bed yet.
Sighing, Fred began to shed his clothes and in doing so, shed the stresses of the day. He had just finished removing his trousers when out of nowhere, a savage pair of lips started attacking his back.
“What the f-” Fred exclaimed before the lips captured his mouth, teasing him, coaxing him to open up. Fred kissed back on impulse, breathing heavily in a matter of moments, totally forgetting the crap day he’d had as he let those lips kiss away the stresses of the day. “Oh George!” they groaned against his mouth.
Fred snapped to attention and reached for his wand. “Lumos!” he hissed as the room lit up and illuminated the startled face of Harry Potter.
“George?” asked Harry tentatively, reaching out for Fred’s hand. Fred groaned and swatted it away, guts churning at this accidentally discovered piece of private information. “Fuck, I hate being a twin.” He sighed to no one in particular.
A dark chuckle from somewhere in the half-lit room made Fred jump. Harry grinned evilly at Fred and peered over his shoulder where a topless George was unpeeling himself from the wall. Harry watched with undisguised lust as George wrapped his arms around his gaping twin.
“You know what, Fred?” George murmured into Fred’s face as Harry groaned at the sight. “I love it.”