Winner Takes All, for megganisms Title: Winner Takes All Author: *unknown* Recipient:megganisms Pairing: Fred-n-George Rating: Adult Summary: A bet between twins, between lovers, has interesting results. For one of them, at least. Word Count: ~1400 Disclaimer: Yes… they are mine. Kidnapping them and making them mine was the only way to get the boys to do these things for me. Now aren’t you glad they’re mine? Highlight for Warnings: Incest, mild bondage, and lacy knickers. A perfect recipe, in my opinion. Beta: “T”- THANK YOU, Miss! Notes: Original request here. Hope you like it, megganisms. DH Spoilers: One (very small and not in the story itself) at the end of the story, hidden between * and * after the end of the fic.
Winner Takes All
Harry cleared his throat, garnering the attention of the entire Weasley clan, sans Percy. “Um,” he looked down at the table, his fingers tracing the knots and scars in the aged wood. “Ginny and I, ah, have a bit of an announcement to make.”
Molly beamed, the smile damn near splitting her face in two.
Charlie and Bill set their forks to the side, giving the longtime couple a serious once over.
Fred and George, sitting side by side, nudged each other in the side. “Truth time, brother dear,” Fred leaned in close and whispered. “I think you’ll look absolutely perfect in blue.”
“Not as well,” George smirked in return, “as you will in the purple I picked out.”
“Shut it, you two,” Ron snapped, “and let the man speak.”
George held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry ‘bout that, Harry,” he said as his eyes danced with mirth. “Do carry on, good man.”
Harry shook his head and muttered, “It’s a’right, guys. Ginny?”
Harry’s lover of three years stood beside him and put a hand over his. “Harry and I,” she started confidently, “broke up. After all this time, we finally figured out that we’re much better off as friends.”
Over the rush of outraged noise, Fred looked at George and smirked. “Looks to me as if you have a debt to pay, Georgie-boy.”
Fred adjusted his cock… again. Just the thought of George in the silk and lace had him ready to rut against the nearest solid surface; the fact that his lover would soon be tied to the bed, open and waiting for whatever he wished just pushed Fred that much closer to the edge. “Come on, George,” he hollered, “get your arse out here.”
“You’ve waited for two days,” George’s voice was muffled by the closed bathroom door, “I’m sure another two minutes won’t kill you.”
Squeezing the base of his prick, Fred didn’t quite agree.
The bathroom door finally eased open, an arc of bright light slicing through the flickering candles lighting their bedroom. The backlight silhouetted George’s lean form, a stark contrast to the filmy folds of the babydoll nightie, perfectly. “Merlin,” Fred rasped out. “Much better than I’d imagined.”
Stepping closer, each foot slowly planting itself in front of the other, Fred growled, “Turn out that light and come ‘ere, George.”
The light blinked out and his brother came into focus. “I take it,” George’s voice was just as raspy, as harsh with desire, as his brother’s, “that you like it?”
Fred’s hand wrapped around George’s waist, sliding over taut muscle and jutting bone as he tugged his brother closer. “I don’t think,” Fred’s breath grazed along George’s shoulder and neck. “I don’t think,” he started again, “that like has anything to do with it, brother mine.”
His lips brushed across George’s jaw; chastely, delicately, thanking his brother for playing to his fantasy. “I don’t know if I want to keep you in this, just push this,” he pulled at the gauzy material, “up over your arse and shag you through the floor.”
“Or?”
“Or,” Fred chuckled softly, a dark sound that flooded George’s body with anticipation. “Or if I want to keep you in this and tie you to our bed, open you up and keep you there, on the bed, waiting for me. All this blue silk brushing across your skin, teasing you while I sink my fingers in your arse; your cock throbbing and jerking, begging me to touch it, lick, or, if you’re a really good boy, swallow down around it.”
George moaned and arched his body closer to his brother. “Don’t tease me, Fred. Please,” he whimpered softly,” don’t fucking tease me.”
Fred’s hands dropped, flitting over the swell of George’s arse, one finger pressing in to rub the silk over George’s entrance. “On the bed, right in the middle,” Fred said with a gentle push. “And don’t even think about taking that off.”
He watched George climb to the center of their bed. Fred waited until George was on his back, his legs falling open, and then he started undressing, dropping his clothes in a heap on the floor. “Get comfy,” he growled, kneeling on the foot of the mattress. “I have plans for you.”
George twisted and wiggled, finally falling still with his hands above his head, nestled in his pillow alongside the headboard. “Fred,” he whispered, “now, damn it.”
“Oh yes,” Fred agreed, reaching out to trap George’s wrists in blue velvet ties, “now.”
He covered George’s body with his own, licking a path from ear to throat to just above the soft bodice of the gown. “So pretty,” he mouthed against the freckled skin, “so pretty for me.”
George pressed up against Fred’s weight. “Just for you,” he returned, gasping as his prick, trapped in lace and silk, brushed against Fred’s.
Fred worked his way lower, sucking and biting at George’s nipples, pulling them into hardened peaks beneath the sodden fabric. His hands, rough and calloused, pushed the nightdress up to expose George’s toned abdomen. Fred shimmied down the bed, his hands roving over his brother’s skin, the precome leaking from George’s prick smearing between them. Fred licked a path over the bitter fluid and he hummed in delight.
“You… are… an… arse,” George panted as he jerked against the ties holding him in place.
“Perhaps,” Fred replied, stopping his intimate perusal and glancing up at George.
“Just remember,” George rasped out, his breath hitching as Fred licked the exposed tip of his cock, “we are identical and I will have my turn.”
“Mmmhmmm,” Fred agreed as he pushed at George’s thighs, widening them, moving them higher to rest on his brother’s chest. “Look forward to it.” The words ghosted through the pulled fabric and rippled over George’s entrance. Over his lover’s moan, Fred asked, “Wonder if I can fuck you without these knickers coming off?”
Without waiting for an answer, Fred whispered a soft command, smirking when the silk split open and revealed the prize. “Why you dirty little boy,” Fred murmured, one finger slipping in through the rip. “You fucked yourself, dinna you? Made yourself all ready for me? Eager little thing, weren’t you?”
George squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Did just that. Come on, Fred…”
Fred rested his palms along George’s thighs and raised himself up. “Ask me for it, Georgie. Tell me what you…”
“Fuck me, damn it!” George cried out as Fred slammed through the broken knickers and into his arse, setting himself balls deep in one solid thrust.
“This what you want?” Fred jacked his hips hard and fast, careening them both towards completion. “Is it?”
“Yes,” George ground out, his body trembling, shaking with need as Fred’s stomach pressed against his lace-covered prick again… and again… and again. George’s toes curled into the duvet as he spurted his release over his stomach.
The tight spasmodic clenching and the rub of the torn silk combined, overloading Fred in pure sensation. With a deep guttural cry, he coated George’s insides with jets of hot come.
Humping lazily, refusing to give up the feeling so soon, Fred reached one hand up the headboard and undid the ties binding his brother. “Mmmm, that was…”
“…nice,” George finished, wrapping his arms around Fred, pulling him close and stilling his movements. After gaining his breath, he said, “Go get the rag, yeah?”
Fred slipped from the bed as George peeled the sticky blue nightie off, tossing it carelessly on the bed. The knickers, ruined by the tear and covered in come, were banished to the trash bin downstairs. He sighed, happy and sated, as a warm rag was wiped over his stomach.
“Did either of them survive?” Fred asked, drinking in the sight of his lover’s body.
“Nightie, that’s it.” George scooted over and patted the place beside. “Come on, Freddie, we’ve got work in the morning.”
The stained nightie was kicked off of the bed as Fred and George stretched out, enjoying the cool air breezing through the open windows. “So,” George started, a mischievous gleam lighting his eyes, “will our little Harry go after a bird or a bloke?”
Fred arched a brow in question. “Another bet, Georgie?”
“Depends on what the stakes are, now doesn’t it?”
The sound of Fred’s laughter broke through the air as the lights over Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes were extinguished for the night.