Entry tags:

alicia, fic, george

Special delivery for luvscharlie
Title: Kisses are Pink
Author: spinneresque
Recipient's LJ name: luvscharlie
Rating: Hard R
Pairings: George/Alicia, mentions of Fred/Angelina
Word Count: ~3193
Warnings (if any): Quite a bit of pink fluff
Summary: Valentine’s Day is a day of traditions. For some couples these traditions are more pleasurable, for others… not so much.
Auhor's Note: Happy (belated) Valentine's Day, luvscharlie. You gave a lot of great pairings and kinks to play with, but it was George/Alicia who won out, and I had so much fun playing with the backstories and the... pink. I hope you enjoy it, and again; I'm sorry for the wait. Also, thank you to my beta, you know who you are and who knew you knew that much... pink?



Alicia gasped as her back made contact with the closing door none too gently. She grinned into the sloppy kiss, her fingers carding through George's messy red hair as his satisfied grunt sent her giggling. They had been on their best behavior all bloody day, and why else would Patricia’s parents have sprung for rooms for the entire wedding party at this up-scale inn if they weren’t supposed to be used? Of course, the parents of the bride had most likely expected the rooms to be slept in after the extravagant wedding and the following feast, and not used as the annual mean of tension release halfway through dessert…

Then again, if Fred and Angelina could have just have waited until after the dancing had commenced to engage in their – by now – regular-as-clockwork Valentine’s Day fight, then maybe she wouldn’t have looked at George and seen that familiar look in his eyes and they wouldn’t have ended up in the carrying out of their own tradition this quickly.

Still, all of that didn’t matter right now, because George’s hands were warm on her waist, through the multiple layers of horribly pink taffeta as his fingers tried to locate and undo the zippers keeping her dress fitted against her figure. “You look like your favourite Bertie Bott’s Bean,” George commented under his breath, making Alicia sputter a bit before she dealt a teasing nip to the curve of his jaw as a reward for that comment.

♥♥♥

SLAM!!

The sound of the portrait being closed hard had everybody in the Gryffindor common room looking up from whatever they were doing to see a fuming Angelina Johnson stomp across the floor in a direct course towards the stairs leading up to the first year girls’ dormitory. Half a moment later, a beaming Fred Weasley climbed through the portrait hole, his eyes scanning the crowd until he spotted George, sent him thumb-up and set off into a sprint, catching up with Angelina just before she stepped onto the stairs.

Alicia sent George a wondering look. When he just shrugged and gestured for her to look at Fred and Angelina, she did so… hesitantly. Just in time to see Angelina thump Fred on the head with A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration.

With wide eyes, Alicia glanced back to George, who was biting his lips, seemingly to keep from laughing. That was a first to her, but then again, this was the first time she had seen Angelina this angry with Fred. It was barely half an hour ago that Fred had floated the small bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Every Flavour Beans, elaborately decorated for the occasion and only containing beans of the white, red and pink sort, across the table and asked Angelina to be his Valentine, to which Angelina had grinned and nodded eagerly.

“Bertie Bott’s?” George asked her, and held out the small pouch towards her. Alicia sent him a smile, and carefully picked out a pink bean, making George scowl at her. “You’re such a girl, or has this Valentine’s rubbish gotten to you too?

“No,” Alicia said with a grin, and popped the sweet into her mouth, “there just aren’t that many pink things that taste vile.”

♥♥♥

She didn’t need to see his face to know that he was scowling in response to the gentle bite she had just given him. She was fully expecting some sort of good natured grousing about her ruining his boyishly good looks when he nudged at her head, and instead, closed his lips around her earlobe, sucking lightly on the soft flesh.

“You do,” he whispered and bit her earlobe, making her whimper softly as a shiver ran down her spine and her nipples hardened against the fabric of her bodice. “Don’t you think I’d recognize a pink Bean when I see one?”

♥♥♥

Alicia could almost hear Angelina’s teeth grinding before she saw her friend slump down on the sofa next to her.

“I’m going to kill him,” Angelina announced in a tight voice, keeping her eyes fixed on the portrait hole. “Nothing less, nothing more, just… kill him.”

“Wh-,” was all Alicia managed to get out, before Angelina cut her off.

“I had to stun the dwarf to keep it from stalking me all over the bloody school with that harp!” she shrieked, “and then-.”

This time it was Angelina who was cut off when the portrait swung open. Within a matter of moments, Fred was kneeling down in front of her, and with a flourish, began singing the song that had been on everybody’s minds today.

“His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad.” He batted his eyelashes at her, and Alicia was certain she had just seen Harry flee the common room. “His hair is as dar- OW! Angelina!!”

Angelina, however, didn’t seem to take kindly to Fred’s whining, and with Intermediate Transfiguration resting dangerously in her hands – most of all looking ready to be used as a weapon – she stomped off, with a limping Fred at her heels.

“The shin, Ange?” Alicia heard him ask just before the portrait hole closed behind them, and George sat down next to her.

“I take it Lockhart’s idea with the singing dwarf didn’t go over well with her?” he said, sending Alicia a smile that had her thinking her knees just might have gone weak if she had been standing, and her cheeks heated up as she shook her head.

“Nuh uh,” she said and drew her feet up under her, turning until she was facing him. “Even when the harp stopped being in tune, it just kept on playing, and Sinistra gave her detention for interrupting class because of it.”

The pained look on George’s face was genuine although he must have trusted that his brother could take care of himself since he was soon smiling secretly back at Alicia.

“What?” she asked him, though her stomach did do an odd sort of flip-flop when he put his hand in his pocket, and her eyes went wide – as did her smile – when he pulled out a small pouch from his pocket.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said and stretched his neck to look as she opened the pouch.

“They’re all pink!” Alicia burst out when the opened pouch revealed nothing but pink Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.

With a proud grin, George nodded. “Finally got enough together to make it look like something. Do you know how few pinks there are in a regular bag?”

Alicia smirked and shrugged coyly. She did know, and she could only begin to guess how long it had taken him to gather all of these for her. Holding out the pouch to him, she offered him one, though was a bit surprised when he fed it to her instead of eating it himself.

“What’s it taste like?” he asked her, though before she could answer – or even react to the taste that was spreading in her mouth – he had closed the distance between them, kissing her softly. Alicia had only begun to deepen the kiss when he pulled back.

“Ground beef?” he asked in horror. When Alicia nodded with a disgusted look on her face, he held out his hand for her to dispose of the offending bean.

“Ever the gentleman,” she giggled as she wiped her mouth, and George vanished the mess in his hand.

♥♥♥

“Prat.” Alicia was about to smack his shoulder for his comparison, when his hands on her arse had her voice drift off into a content purr, a purr that turn into an encouraging moan as his hands moved further down her thigh, hitching her leg around his hip.

"I've heard that one before," George chuckled. Soon after, Alicia couldn't care less whether he was a prat or not. As his mouth captured hers, and he pushed his hips against hers, the evidence that this had been the right time to leave the table pressed against her flimsy knickers – pink to match the dress –, her breath hitching in her throat.

♥♥♥

Alicia winced.

The pink frills and laces, now decorated with even more hearts and bows than usual, was almost blinding. However, that wasn’t the worst part of it. The worst part was that as tacky as Madam Puddifoot’s had always been, it had always been a fun place to go. But now, it most of reminded her of that cow, Umbridge. As she looked at Angelina, Fred and George, she noted that she most likely wasn’t the only one to think like that.

It didn’t take long before they were all seated -- at two different tables, since the concept of four people on a last-year Valentine’s date didn’t sit well with Madam Puddifoot. Just like neighbouring tables had been out of the question too. This really had been too silly, even for her, yet when Alicia had mentioned it to George, he had just nudged her and told her that it was something you had to try at least once, and why not get it out of the way as fast as possible?

Without thinking, their fingers had interlaced across the table, they had unconsciously shifted closer to discuss the finer points of Cupid induced sugar shock, when a SPLASH followed by a yelp had them looking up to see an angry Angelina stomp off, a coffee-drenched Fred at her heels.

Having seen this happen pretty much every year up until now, all Alicia and George could do was watch as their friends disappeared down the street, knowing that by tomorrow, the two of them would have made up and gone back to the couple they normally were.

“You do know that this means our dormitory is empty, and will be for a couple more hours?” George’s suggestive voice brought Alicia back to the here and now. For a moment, she just looked at him. Amused, yet intrigued.

“Prat,” she said with a small smirk, though she accepted his hand gladly to help her up from the chair. Soon they were all but racing down the street, direction: Hogwarts and the 7th year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory.

♥♥♥

Frantically, Alicia began undoing George's tie, wanting it out of the way before she let her fingers work on the all too many buttons of that bloody constricting powder blue robe Lee had insisted each of the groomsmen wear. To be quite honest, Alicia suspected it was Lee who had given in to his mother-in-law-to-be (at the time) simply to keep her from nagging even more about the colours for the Valentine’s Day wedding. Either way, right now it was a hindrance, and a hindrance that needed to come off. EUREKA! There was finally warm skin, with just a smattering of red hair, under the palms of her hands. George managed to get the bodice of her dress open and pulled down, freeing her breasts, though catching her arms by her side.

Frustrated with the entrapment, Alicia groaned at the forced loss of contact with the warm skin. As George dipped his head down and closed his lips around a pert nipple – drawing yet another wanton moan from her – she fought to free her hands, whimpering with joy when she could finally bring them to his hair and pull him up to kiss her.

She hissed as George leaned against her, his chest warm against her breasts as she pushed his robe over his shoulders and down his arms, until it pooled around his ankles. All the while he was pushing up her dress, bundling it around her waist. The sound of her knickers ripping as he tried to pull them down had both of them stop for a moment and look at each other with wide eyes.

“I’ll fix them later,” George finally said with a smirk.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before, too.” Alicia grinned and pushed down his briefs, catching sight of the tattoo on his right arse cheek in the mirror across the room from them as he hitched her legs around his waist.

♥♥♥

“So, let me get this straight,” Alicia said, looking George directly in the eyes as she tried to understand why it was that Angelina had just stormed out with Fred following close behind her. “Angelina walked in on you in the shower a while back, yeah?”

“Yeah,” George nodded, agreeing that she was on the right track.

“And for this Valentine’s Day, Fred gave Angelina the two of you matching tattoos..?”

Again George nodded. “Yep!”

Alicia opened and closed her mouth several times, trying in vain to come up with a way to best express her speechlessness. As George was about to say something, she held up a hand to keep him quiet, and decided to just… speak. “You’re identical. How in Merlin’s name are matching tattoos going to be a great gift for her on a day like today?”

Now it was George’s turn to hold up a finger as he began his explanation. “See… she never actually got as far as seeing the tattoos, but it’s… romantic.” He followed his statement up with a nod that had Alicia quirk her eyebrow again.

“Want to see?” he asked with a bright grin, and before she knew it, Alicia was looking at the bare bum of George Weasley.

“Not Fred,” she read from the black letters that were now printed across the curve of his right arse cheek. “Not Fred?” This time she couldn’t keep from laughing, and without thinking, she reached out to trace her fingers along the slightly swollen colour. The hiss that provoked from George, however, had her retract her hand, afraid that she had hurt him. That thought disappeared as soon as he turned around to face her with a grin that was anything but painful.

“I get to be on top!” He grinned and made quick work of divesting her of her shirt, sending the buttons flying across the room. “Uhm… yeah… I’ll fix that later, love.”

♥♥♥

A long, deep moan flowed from Alicia’s throat as George pushed into her, and without wasting any time, began thrusting hard into her. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, pulling him close, her nose buried in his hair as his nose and lips nuzzled her neck, the warm breath from his grunts ghosting around her neck. Behind her, the door rattled on its hinges, and for a moment she wondered what people passing by in the corridor outside might think. That thought, however, was quickly followed by the relief that it was the door that was rattling, and not the table they had just vacated downstairs.

♥♥♥

Alicia watched as Angelina stalked out of the elaborately decorated ballroom with Fred not far after, profusely apologizing for having said something or other about her dress. At least that was what Alicia thought it was since, if she had to be honest, she hadn’t paid that much attention to them. Her attention had been on George’s hand which had rested on her thigh from the moment they had sat down at the table, hidden by the table cloth. Whenever no one was looking, they had moved their chairs just a fraction of an inch closer, and, by now there was no room left between them.

She looked across the table to the other couple sitting with them. They were far too gone in discussing some theory on how Arithmancy, if applied correctly, could enhance the properties of… No, she wasn’t going to recall that conversation, especially now that they were distracted, and George’s hand was sliding just that bit further up her thigh and down between her legs.

“I should probably go check on Angelina,” Alicia said, praying that she was the only one to notice how her voice cracked. She looked at George and said clearly, “She would really hate missing out on dessert, don’t you think?”

George hadn’t needed to be told twice, and Alicia had barely been out of her chair before he was too, practically pulling her along as they left the ballroom.

“Groomsmen’s rooms are on the second floor, your room’s closer. Key?”

“Key!” Alicia said as she fished it out of her purse. They had barely gotten inside before her back made contact with the door and she was gasping…

♥♥♥

Despite the fact that both she and George were verbal sorts, never ones to not say what was on their minds, words now seemed to have become obsolete. Instead it was her fingers in his hair and her feet against the small of his back that were accompanying the moans and gasps he drew from her. His fingers were on her arse, kneading and teasing, his lips kissing their way across her jaw and cheek to find her mouth, only to close effectively around hers as he swallowed down every little sound she made.

Gone were all the worries of the war happening around them. it was just the two of them: him and her. It was that toe-curling feeling when he ground against her like that that made her break off the kiss and look at him while he kept up the relentless pounding into her. His normally blue eyes were almost black, the look on his face a mix of pleasure and effort, although right before her climax washed over her, Alicia was certain she caught a glimpse of pride. Then, he called out her name and slumped against her, trapping her effectively against the door.

Later, as they lay on the massive bed, Alicia’s eyes drooped slightly as George gently brushed a strain of hair off her forehead. “I have something for you,” he said in a soft voice that voice that made her smile contently. The smile brightened considerably and was followed by a delighted chuckle when he put a familiar looking pouch in front of her.

“Have you any idea how many vile tasting pink Bertie Bott’s there are?”

Alicia looked wonderingly at him. “I’ve only ever had that one…”

When he gestured to the pouch, she opened it and examined the contents, before she picked out one and held a half Bean up for him to see. “Where’s the other half?” she asked him with a chuckle, amused by the teethmark that revealed just how all the Beans had ended up in halves.

George just shrugged. “How else could I know which ones tasted vile? And just so you know; there are plenty things that tastes vile. There’s ground beef, but you knew that one already,” he ticked off the first taste on his finger, then drew in air for the apparently long list he had made, “there’s peppercorns, prawns, rub-“

“How about the ones that tastes good?” Alicia cut him off, and began ticking off the tastes that she like. “Watermelon, raspberries, pink champ-“

“Kisses.”

Alicia looked wonderingly at George. “Whu-?”

“Kisses are pink,” George stated and leaned closer to her. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

As he closed the distance between them and eased her down to lie on his back, Alicia could only moan softly in agreement; kisses were definitely pink too.