InsaneJournal

FIC: Anything to Win (George Weasley wanking)
Title: Anything to Win
Characters/Pairing: George, Lee, Fred
Word Count: 482
Rating: NC-17
Prompts: amazing race
Kink: wanking/mutual masterbation; mentions: biting, BDSM
Notes: I had SUCH a hard time with this prompt at first; kept imagining the reality show by that name!

George’s hand flew up and down his cock in a blur. His face wore a look of concentration, tongue pushed just a little between his lips, eyes slightly narrowed. His hips jerked, arsecheeks clenched, cock leaked. He was close. Merlin, he was close!

The problem was, Fred was just as close. Without moving his head any, just flicking his eyes over, George took in his competition in the four poster bed to his right in the Gryffindor dormitory. That faraway expression, that wriggling body, that freckle-covered hand fisting furiously. Fred was fucking good at this. Pun intended.

George closed his eyes. He was determined not to lose today’s race. He was worked up, hard, throbbing. He just needed an edge, something to push him the rest of the way, something so undeniably hot that he wouldn’t be able to resist coming.

He imagined an adonis, golden skin in the sunlight, flexing his muscles. He imagined a man with a whip, cracking it suddenly then rubbing the handle between his arsecheeks. He imagined someone’s tongue on the small of his back, sliding down until teeth sunk into the flesh of his arse. He imagined a mouth sucking on his bottom lip. He imagined the largest, fullest cock sliding up inside him, filling him.

The head of his cock was purple, weeping with need. But he just wasn’t there yet. He heard a gasp from the right side of the room and swore to himself. Fred was starting. There was only one thing George could do now.

He opened his eyes, turned his head to the left just a little, and took in the sight of Lee Jordan. Lee was nearly naked, robes bunched up under his arms, shorts shoved down at his ankles. One of Lee’s hands was wrapped around his cut cock and the other hand fondled his balls excitedly. Lee never won this race, but he was always up for playing whenever one of the twins was in the mood. Sometimes George made it through without peeking at him. But those were all the times George didn’t win.

With a gasp, George’s hips rose from the bed. Come spurted from the head, striking his chest, spilling over his hand. George moaned quietly, hearing Fred do likewise. If he was honest, Fred had technically reached orgasm first, but all George cared about was the surge of pleasure rushing through his whole body.

He lay gasping for breath, letting his body relax as he listened to Lee come. He heard his twin’s cry of victory, but honestly didn’t care. George just felt too damn blissful to care. He rubbed a hand across his chest, wishing those stifled moans of Lee’s were because of him and knowing that the sticky trails on his fingertips were all Lee Jordan’s doing. When asked, of course, he’d tell them both he’d been thinking of Gillian Meadow’s breasts.