Title: Just A Good Luck Charm
Author: eeyore9990
Characters: Neville Longbottom/George Weasley/Surprise!
Rating: NC-17?
Word Count: 2732
Prompts used: Satyriasis/Male Nymphomania (sort of), Charms
Other Lovely Sex Things: Blow jobs, bondage, forced lust, ectoplasmic splooge, voyeurism(?), wanking
Author's Notes: Dedicated to kaellite. I think I got everything you wanted in here, though I have to apologise for the canon twins. *blush*

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Three weeks after the destruction of Hogwarts, the defeat of Voldemort, and the deaths of far too many witches and wizards, Neville found himself at the Burrow, attending a rather quiet gathering of Weasleys and friends of Weasleys. It wasn't completely silent, of course. Andromeda Tonks was there with Teddy Lupin, the tiny baby providing the gathering with a much-needed reason to smile.

Fleur was seated in Bill's lap in a magically widened chair at the table as she helped Mrs Weasley peel potatoes for the coming meal; Harry and Ginny were seated on the other side of the table, their hands hidden beneath it as they attempted to follow the quiet conversation that drifted around them but didn't seem to penetrate their small personal bubble of happiness. Ron and Hermione were squabbling, as usual, but that had ceased to be anything of note approximately seven years ago, so Neville's perusal continued without pause.

Percy wasn't present, but he was expected shortly, and Charlie was back in Romania for now.

That only left one Weasley unaccounted for.

Neville sighed and turned to the table, touching Harry lightly on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Neville, hi," Harry said, blushing slightly as he pulled his gaze away from Ginny and apparently noticed Neville for the first time.

"Where's George?" Neville asked quietly, not wanting to draw attention.

Ginny bit her lip and leaned over Harry, blinking rapidly before she said, "The banging from upstairs? That's him. He says he's working, but…" Her eyes grew shiny with tears and Neville nodded, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder in sympathy before backing away with a lopsided smile. He watched as Harry drew Ginny into a comforting hug before he allowed himself to simply fade out of the room while no one was paying attention. Not that it was difficult. No one seemed to have the ability to concentrate on doing more than living at the moment. Too much had happened; everyone was still very numb.

Neville started up the creaky stairs to the first floor, not sure which room was the twins… or rather, George's now, really. He pushed open the two doors on this level and saw a room that obviously belonged to a girl—Ginny's—and a room that had a pair of scuffed dragon hide boots stowed next to the door. Bill's, then.

Sighing, he started up the stairs again to the next level and heard a muffled bang. Taking the last three stairs at once, he saw a bit of smoke drifting out from beneath the door a bit down the hall. Striding quickly forward, he listened for a moment before knocking when he heard nothing further.

"Dammit." The swear was muffled, but the irritation in George's voice was clear. A few loud footsteps later and the door swung open. "Neville?"

Neville chewed on the inside of his bottom lip for a long moment before he said, "Hello, George. I hadn't seen you in a while and decided to come up and see if you needed a hand with… anything." It was a feeble excuse, at best, but George didn't seem to mind, merely stepped aside and waved his hand for Neville to enter.

"You want to help?" George asked, his voice holding a slightly teasing quality.

Neville shrugged and nodded. "Sure. Whatever I can do."

If Neville had been able to see George's grin at those words, he would have called them back; as it was, George was facing away, leading him into the converted workroom, so he missed it entirely.

"We're working on a new charm," George said. "It's a charm for… luck. I've needed someone to test it on—"

"Your brothers won't help?" Neville asked.

"I… they don't work well with our products."

"Our products?" Neville asked gently, hoping he wasn't opening a can of worms, but wondering who was working with George so soon after Fred… after Fred.

George shook his head, a small grin stretching his lips. "Silent partnership thing. You understand, I'm sure."

Neville thought about pressing for a moment, but it was so nice to see George smiling even a little bit that he decided not to push the issue. "Yeah. Of course."

George clapped him on the shoulder, leading him rather forcefully over to a worktable and picking up what looked like a rather cheap string necklace. "This is it. Two solid weeks of work; our masterpiece, really."

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Just put it on. Slide it over your head."

"It's a good luck charm?" Neville asked, studying the runes cut rather awkwardly into the tiny pewter tiles that clunked together at the bottom of the necklace. Not that studying them would do him any good; he hadn't taken Ancient Runes while at Hogwarts.

George coughed, keeping his fist raised to his mouth as he said, "Right. A good luck charm."

Neville hesitated a moment longer before slipping the necklace over his head.

Immediately a wave of something rolled over him so strongly that his knees went weak. He stumbled, knocking into the worktable and grabbing it as he sort of tilted toward the ground. A sharp, high, wavery sounding laugh pierced through the room and it was then that he realised he'd stopped breathing. Sucking in air, he heard a low gurgle and realised it was coming from him.

A knot formed low in his belly and a flush swept through him, wracking his body with chills and making him burn from the inside out all at the same time. A mist formed over his eyes until his vision swam; he blinked to clear it, but the way his lids slid down over his eyes, the feeling of his lashes as they brushed against his cheeks, made him shudder all over.

His clothes suddenly felt restricting and it became difficult to form a thought much less hold onto one. He tore the buttons at the collar of his shirt and cried out as the stiff, cotton material pulled against his skin, the hardened nubs of his nipples tingling nearly painfully.

"What—" On his knees, he reached out mindlessly, his hands encountering soft denims that he pulled against, trying to stop the room from tilting and sliding away underneath him. He was able to somehow stumble to his feet, pushing the person in front of him—

"George!"

—backward as he did so. A chuckle that should only have sparked interest in his ears wound down his spine until he gave a short, choked cry, grabbing frantically at anything he could touch. Skin appeared under his palms and the feel of it, sliding so sensually against his fingertips, made him moan.

"Shh, easy there. I think we got it a bit too strong, Fred—"

The words washed over Neville, bypassing his brain and travelling straight down to the knot in his belly that seemed to suddenly expand downward, flooding his groin with heat and need. Strong hands grabbed him—

"God! God!"

—and it was all he could do not to sink into that grip, just let his legs fold under him and be carried away. Instead he tripped along in whatever direction he was being led—

The world was dark… so dark… eyes closed… patterns on his lids…

—and sprawled backward onto a firm, springy mattress, nearly hyperventilating as his back, buttocks, thighs, and calves slid against the rumpled sheets of the unmade bed. He clawed at his skin, not sure if he was trying to keep it on his body or rip it off; only sure he wanted to stop this madness that was eating away at him.

His trousers sliding off his legs made him scream, thrashing about the bed as the fire under his skin leapt up his body, building against the flaring ache in his groin. Hands gripped his thighs, attempting to hold him down, but the skin to skin contact was too much and his flailing feet connected with something soft—

"Oomph! Incarcerous! Bloody hell, it's way too strong. Try to relax, Neville, I'm taking off the charm."

—and ropes wound round his ankles and wrists, pulling his hands and feet away from his body, scratching at his skin until he writhed, helpless. "Please, please, please." The words poured from his lips until they became mere background noise as his head thrashed back and forth.

Something caught under his chin and a dull clinking sound stirred his memory before slipping away again like sand.

"Neville! Neville, can you hear me? I've taken it off, now. Neville?"

Neville moaned, his body pulsing where he lay, but the sensory overload was blessedly gone. He blinked back the haze that continued to cloud his vision and noticed then how wet his face was. His lashes, too. Not sweat then.

Hands on his thighs again made him cry out, body twisting as he tried to… to do something, anything…

"Neville, look at me!" The commanding tone cut through him and he looked to where the voice had come from and saw George, taller than normal… He blinked again and realised it wasn't George. It was Fred. Fred. Floating there slightly to the side of him.

"Fred?"

A crazy wicked grin filled the nearly transparent features—how odd that he should still have freckles as a ghost—and Fred said, "In the flesh… or not. Ah, sorry 'bout all this, mate. We couldn't test it on Georgie with only the family about. You understand, right?"

"What… what happened?"

"It's a good luck charm. Get it? Luck? Helps you get lucky!"

"What? That's not… doesn't make sense." But then it did. Everything he'd just gone through, the sensations had been pure lust, only magnified to such a degree that it had gone straight past pleasure and into a sensory overload so mind-searing that it had felt like pain and insanity all rolled in together.

"It's still—"

"I know," George said, his voice soft, cutting him off as he rubbed his hands up and down Neville's thighs. "Sorry, mate, but there's only one way to take care of this. I could call Ginny or Hermione—"

"No!" Neville said, blanching even under the flush that still stained his skin. "No, it's fine. Just… do something. Or release me and I'll do it."

"Sorry, mate, doesn't work that way. You have to really get lucky, and not just with your hand, you know?"

Neville groaned and dropped his head back, pressing it into the pillow under him. "Of course not. I suppose there's no 'other half' to this particular pill, either, is there?"

Twin chuckles filled the air and Neville actually felt his own lips stretch into a grin. It was so good to hear their voices raised in laughter, even if it was at his expense.

"This isn't so much a hardship for me, mate, but if you want me to Obliviate you afterward, just let me know."

Neville tilted his head up until he could look into George's eyes. "It's, ahh, not a problem for me. I…" He tried to shrug and couldn't.

"Yeah, thought so."

"So what do we do? And… the ropes?"

George's gaze flicked up to Fred and he cocked a brow. Even with one twin a mere ghostly presence, they were apparently able to share a silent communication, and George laughed softly before he looked back at Neville and shook his head. "I really like seeing you like this, Nev. If you don't mind—and I'm sure you don't, judging by the fact you're pointing straight at me—I think I'll keep you just like you are."

Neville squirmed and realised he really didn't mind the ropes, but the reference to his throbbing cock merely served to draw his attention back to the fact that he was, as yet, unfulfilled. He swallowed roughly and opened his mouth to say something only to shout instead as George took that moment to dip his head and suck on the very tip of Neville's cock.

"Aaah!"

"God, George, you look good like that. Yeah, suck some more… just like that…"

Neville's eyes had snapped shut at the warm, wet heat surrounding him, but they popped open again when he heard Fred's voice, deep and scratchy with arousal even as it floated through the air as insubstantially as Fred himself. Neville's mouth dropped open as he watched Fred waver for a moment before becoming visible again… completely naked.

"Oh my God," he whispered.

George pulled off his cock, obviously about to make some smart comment before he realised Neville hadn't been talking about him. He rolled his eyes and muttered, "showoff," before taking Neville deep into his throat, swallowing around him as Neville's hips came off the bed of their own volition.

Something cold rubbed against Neville's nipples, the sensation warring so completely with the heat of George's mouth that it nearly sent Neville straight back to the same mindless state he'd so recently been in. His mouth dropped open as he gasped for air, more moans and whimpers escaping him as he twisted his wrists in the ropes binding him, his legs moving just as restlessly.

"Yes, please, George. God, please, just… please." A whinging sound escaped him, then, and his back arched as George sucked just a bit harder, his hand insinuating itself between Neville's thighs to roll his bollocks as he sealed his lips against the base of Neville's cock, taking the head down his throat and swallowing.

Neville shouted and pressed upward, his eyes flying open to see Fred floating above him, flushed a vaguely purple colour as he wanked over the two men on the bed. Neville caught his bottom lip in his teeth as his balls drew up against his body.

"Ah… George…"

George pulled back, making Neville shout until he gripped Neville's cock in his other hand, working him as he said, voice husky from the abuse to his throat, "Come on me, Neville. Make me dirty."

Neville lost it. Every muscle in his body bunched against the straining ropes as his release shot from the tip of his cock, decorating George's face with strands of thick come even as something cold and wet landed in splashes against his chest.

After he came, he lay there in his bonds, shivering at the sensations still coursing through his body, and attempted to pull himself back together. A rhythmic slapping sound made him blink his eyes open and he moaned to see George kneeling on the foot of the bed, between his thighs, wanking himself over Neville's spent body.

Neville licked his lips and nodded, whispering, "Come on me now."

A soft chuckle distracted him momentarily and he saw Fred floating off to the side, slightly more transparent than ghosts normally were. "Sure, why not. I did."

George groaned and hunched over, his face tightening into a grimace of pleasure as he squeezed the tip of his cock, come shooting out of it in pulses to splash onto Neville's groin and stomach. He slumped forward onto his hands and knees, barely braced above Neville's body as he said, "Thanks. Sorry. Something."

That surprised a laugh out of Neville. "My pleasure. Really."

"Mmm. Need to work on that charm. Too strong."

"You think?" Neville asked dryly. "Uhh, hate to bring it up, but…" He pulled against the ropes until George found his wand and released him.

"Hey, Nev?"

Neville lifted his head off the pillow to look at Fred who was now at the foot of the bed. "Hmm?"

"George is going to need someone a bit more… substantial… than me to help him out around the shop. With testing and whatnot."

George's arm tightened where it was wrapped around Neville's chest as he said, "Shut up, Fred. Some of us actually have to sleep these days."

"It's barely gone noon!"

"I just came. You know how I get."

Neville smiled before a question pushed his lethargy aside. "Why haven't you told your family yet?"

"'Bout what? That I like blokes?"

Neville rolled his eyes. "No, that Fred's back."

"Meh, he's a ghost. Lot of good he is. Can't even test products with me anymore."

"They miss you, Fred," he said, talking directly to the source this time.

"I know. I'll pop up next week."

"Why next week?"

Fred grinned evilly. "Oh, I have to make an appearance at some event. Something about a memorial service..."