|Still, where did the lighter fluid come from? (emiime) wrote in percy_ficathon,|
@ 2008-06-26 10:20:00
|Entry tags:||fic, nc-17, percy/charlie/george, slash|
A gift for eeyore9990!
Title: Pickle in the Middle
Pairing/Characters: Charlie/Percy/George (much to Percy's complete astonishment)
Word Count: 3440
Warnings: Rather obviously it's Weasleycest, and a threesome at that.
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Summary: Percy discovers that there are actually some benefits to being the middle brother.
Notes: Wow, this hand basket is really quite comfy… heh. Writing this story was a bit of a personal challenge for me, as I'd never written this particular taboo before. Despite that, I think I came up with something you just might like, Eey. Much appreciation to C for her sharp eyes and for being un-shockable, and thanks to D, who will wave at me from her cloud as I ride away in my hand basket.
The Floo deposited Percy in the backroom of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and he brushed at the soot on his sleeves, somewhat fastidiously, as he moved, per the instructions he'd been given, towards the stairs that would take him to the workroom above.
"George?" he called out tentatively.
His brother had asked him for assistance, and that alone was enough to bring Percy there, despite the fact that he'd done his best to give George his space.
Merlin, he had to stop doing that.
George had never before called upon Percy for help of any sort, and Percy couldn't possibly deny him, even though he'd rather have stayed away. How George could even look at him after Percy had failed him so completely, he would never understand.
Percy pushed the thought away before it could fully form, swallowing hard, then took a deep breath or two before pushing open the door at the top of the stairs.
"George?" he called again.
The large main room was unoccupied and Percy looked around with interest. Two of the walls were lined with cupboards, there were some crates stacked neatly to one side, and there were two worktables: one along the wall to his left, another much larger one in the center of the room with a cauldron and various ingredients laid out for brewing, along with other tools of the trade. He had to admit a bit of surprise—he'd never been there before, and the level of organization that he found was unexpected.
Percy moved into the room and closer to the table to his left, blushing as he realized that what he'd taken for oddly shaped and colorful toys were actually… well, they were toys, of a sort: sex toys, judging by the rather detailed phallic shapes.
Without thinking, Percy reached down and picked up the nearest one, which was a soft purple color and had a handle very much like the hilt of a sword. It was, of course, larger than any actual man could be without magical assistance, but Percy had to admit the craftsmanship was remarkable: apart from its not-human size and color, it looked realistic.
He traced the veins with his fingertips, pressing down to find that there was a rigid center underneath the malleable skin.
Percy didn't really know anything was wrong until he giggled.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd giggled.
Actually, he'd never giggled—he'd always been a rather serious person, even as a child.
"Perce?" George came into the room, smiling. "When I asked for help, that's not what I had in mind."
"All right, Perce?" Charlie followed closely behind George, and Percy giggled softly again. He'd never really noticed how much like Charlie the twins looked, but apart from Charlie's weathered and tremendously freckled complexion, he might have been Fred standing there.
"I really needed help with a potion; Freddie was always the potions man. I'm better at charms and Charlie here is pants at potions too, unless you need a dragon salve."
Charlie popped George on the arse playfully, and Percy swallowed hard. He was feeling very strange—everything was a bit fuzzy around the edges. He'd never been drunk, never allowed himself to lose control in that way, but he thought this must be what it felt like.
George said something else, but Percy had no clue as to what it might've been. He sighed instead of worrying about it—his brothers were gorgeous.
Somehow, all the good genes had filtered all around him. In the sibling ranks, Percy was flanked by Charlie and George, who'd received all the best of the Prewetts: though rather on the short side, they were muscular and good looking (despite George's missing ear), quick to laugh and charismatic. And they were flanked by Bill and Ron, who looked remarkably similar as well. They'd somehow managed to get the best of both sides of the family, with their Weasley height and blue eyes, and the broad shoulders of the Prewetts. And Bill's scars hadn't detracted from his good looks either, giving him a sort of roguish appearance.
Percy had inherited his mother's fussiness, and his father's myopia and tall, skinny frame.
He likely had a bald head to look forward to in the future.
It didn't seem fair, somehow, that he should be the one that was different. The pickle in the middle was what he was.
Charlie and George were speaking to him again, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. He was too distracted by George's lush red lips.
That was the other thing about Percy: he was a pervert, a horrible, filthy pervert.
And whatever it was that had come over him now compelled him to confess to it.
"I saw you, you know." It wasn't quite the statement he'd meant to make, and clearly, George didn't understand. Thankfully, Percy's hearing seemed to return to him.
"What? Me? You saw me what?" George asked, clearly baffled.
Percy sighed and wished he could sit down, then found that actually he could sit down, when his bum hit the floor with a teeth-jarring thud.
"Fred too—I saw you. S'why I left the family, you know. Had to."
"You left the family because you saw me and Freddie?" George seemed to understand that better, but it still wasn't quite what Percy meant to say.
"Saw you, watched you, loved you. So beautiful," he sighed, then said plaintively, "and I was a filthy pervert, don't you see? Wanking over my brothers…"
"Bloody hell." George got it then, it seemed, and he looked as astonished as he'd sounded.
His brothers exchanged a look, but then, instead of condemning Percy for the pervert that he was, Charlie grinned broadly and George actually laughed.
It was so good to see George laughing, Percy forgot to worry that it was at his expense. No matter how odd he felt at the moment, he could sense there was something going on there, something that was going over his head at the moment.
Probably because he was sitting on the floor.
Charlie tried to help him up, but Percy was quite happy where he was and resisted.
"Hang on. Don't touch it, Charlie. Something's wonky with the charms—it's only supposed to lower inhibitions. Use your gloves," George suggested.
"Oh, his inhibitions are lowered all right," Charlie said with a laugh.
Percy didn't know what they were talking about, until he felt a tugging and remembered that he was still holding the purple sword dildo.
"I can't seem to let it go—I think it likes me." He giggled at that, then watched, fascinated, as Charlie's dragon-hide covered hands pulled on the imitation cock, making Percy warm at the sight and the erotic thoughts it evoked.
Charlie gave one more great tug, and Percy was finally able to release his grip on the purple handle.
He began to feel normal again as Charlie hoisted him up off of the floor, without the resistance this time. When Percy was standing once again, however, his behaviour and, more importantly, the careless spilling of his deepest, darkest secret came flooding back to him. He would have Apparated out of there immediately if Charlie, who must have sensed Percy would do precisely that when he'd regained his senses, hadn't had such a firm grip on his arms.
And he was standing entirely too close for comfort.
"All right, Percy?" Charlie asked, concern filling his amber eyes.
Percy wanted to die on the spot.
"Please," he pleaded quietly, looking away, humiliation burning through him, "let me go."
Charlie did let go, but only with one hand, which he brought up to Percy's face, turning Percy's head so he was forced to look at him.
Instead of disgust, he found understanding in Charlie's eyes, which were crinkled slightly at the corners with his smile.
"They were beautiful to watch, weren't they?"
The implications of Charlie's statement had Percy momentarily dumbfounded, but he managed to sputter, "You, uh… you too?"
Charlie leant in to whisper, "Watched. Wanked. And sometimes," he nibbled Percy's earlobe, "I joined in the fun. I only wish I'd known you were there, wanking along with them—makes me hot just thinking about it."
Charlie let go of his chin and grabbed Percy's hand, placing it on the now bulging front of his denims.
"Oh god." Percy swallowed hard, but didn't pull his hand away.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Perce." Charlie smiled. "It's a fine family tradition."
Percy snorted, despite himself. "Ha bloody ha. You're hilarious."
"You've got him laughing and swearing now, Charlie—a good sign, that."
He'd nearly forgotten that George was in the room with them and Percy turned to look at him, needing reassurance to believe what Charlie had said, no matter the rather solid—and good heavens, growing—physical evidence in his hand.
"It's okay. Honestly. I like that you know, that you saw us—feels a bit like I got something back I thought I'd lost, yeah?"
"I meant what I said," Charlie said in his ear, "it is a family thing—Uncles Fabian and Gideon. Rocked my world the day I saw them."
"Bill and Ron?"
George grinned, moving closer, now sporting an impressive bulge of his own. He snorted, "Nah, those two are so straight it's a wonder they can bend to tie their shoes."
"Kiss him, George. Show 'im what a lovely mouth you have."
Percy sucked in a breath, not certain he was ready for such a thing, but not daring to protest when it was something he'd fantasized about so often. He had to bend his neck a bit to accommodate the slight height difference, but George's hot mouth found his easily and Percy moaned into it as George slid his tongue alongside Percy's, tangling them deliciously.
Hands were moving over his body, though Percy couldn't say whose, and he gave Charlie a squeeze through the denim, drawing out a low moan from his older brother. Then there were two tongues twining with his own and Percy was surrounded by heat.
It was almost too much and the last remaining shreds of his doubt, of his fierce dedication to following the rules, gave a last-ditch effort, crying out that this was wrong, wrong, wrong, causing Percy to hesitate.
Both George and Charlie pulled back, but it was George who spoke first. "It's all right, Perce, really—nobody gets hurt, we're all consenting adults—"
"Adults who already love one another," Charlie cut in. "And no chance of any mutant babies." He grinned. "It's a win-win situation, really."
Percy was being tag-teamed and he knew it, but he was incapable of arguing with them, all breathless and rumpled and gorgeous, especially given this situation was already better than anything he'd ever let himself imagine.
He threw that last remaining doubt aside. Putting a firm hand on the back of Charlie's neck, Percy kissed him full on, melting into the firm and oh so perfect lips.
"Fuck, that's hot," George said, and Percy opened his eyes to find George pushing his zip down.
"Bed. We need a bed," Percy said.
"Eager, are we?" Charlie chuckled.
"Just want to distract you lot before you realize it's me, and call the whole thing off."
George and Charlie once again shared a look, then George said with a grin, "Course we know it's you, Bill..."
Percy narrowed his eyes at them, then said in a serious tone, "You know, you two should take this act on the road, I hear people pay top-Galleon for such comedy."
George's jaw dropped. "Get him! Sarcasm, Charlie. Sarcasm." He wiped a mock tear from his face, then grabbed Percy in a hug that had him lifted clear off the ground, saying with an exaggerated sob, "I'm so proud!
Laughing, Percy slapped at George's back. "All right, all right, put me down, you great oaf."
"We'd've invited you to play with us much sooner, you know, if we'd known you didn't actually have a stick up your arse—or that it was there cos you liked it, you dirty beggar."
Charlie grinned, hugging them both, moving them toward corridor. "Yeah, and we've got a lot of time to make up for."
A new sort of warmth filled Percy. All his life, he'd felt like an outsider, an interloper in his own family. For the first time, he was a part of something, sharing something with his brothers—he finally felt welcome, accepted.
By the time they'd stumbled and fumbled into the bedroom, George and Charlie were completely starkers. Percy had managed to lose his shirt and one shoe, and began to unfasten his trousers. He stopped, though, to gaze at Charlie and George, who were crawling onto the enormous bed that occupied most of the room. They kissed heatedly, and then turned, both kneeling on the bed, and looked expectantly at Percy, who stood at the foot of the bed.
The similarity in appearance extended to their cocks, both rigid, not terribly long, but thick. It didn't extend to their exposed torsos, however: Charlie had patches of burn scars, but it was the colorful dragon tattoo that began on his muscular thigh and snaked up to his lower abdomen that really set them apart.
Percy took in the sight, committing it to memory, because as much as he hated to, he knew if things went the way he wanted, his glasses would get in the way. He made to take them off, but Charlie stopped him.
"Wait—leave 'em on."
Percy looked up in surprise. "You want my glasses on?"
"Yeah, I do—they're sexy." He waggled his eyebrows. "And, I want you to see everything." Percy stood motionless, lust curling through him while Charlie sucked on a finger, then traced it over one of George's nipples, his eyes never leaving Percy's—a challenge of sorts that was then verbalized. "Not having second thoughts, are you, Perce?" He nodded his head toward Percy's hands, stalled on the waistband of his trousers.
Percy had never been susceptible to dares or taunts, and certainly didn't need one now, in any case. Though he was slightly self-conscious about his bony frame in the face of his two muscular brothers, he was not hesitating out of uncertainty, just distraction.
Because in the genetic lottery, Percy actually had managed to draw one winner.
Toeing off his other shoe, he eased his trousers and boxers down his legs, stepping out of them, and, sensing this was not the time to be fussy about his clothes, kicked them to the side in a heap.
"Cor blimey, would ya lookit that…" Charlie said incredulously.
"Percy you selfish twonk, keeping a monster like that all to yourself," George admonished, then licked his lips, and Percy's throbbing cock twitched in anticipation.
Suddenly there were hands all over him, tweaking, caressing, squeezing, and he closed his eyes, moaning softly. Someone was kissing him and he opened his eyes to find Charlie pulling back, smiling but seemingly as breathless as Percy felt. He squeezed Percy's arse cheek and said, "I usually like to take my time about this, do it by hand, but I'm about to burst as it is. D'you trust me? Us?"
Percy nodded. "Course I do. How d'you want me?"
That earned him a rumbley chuckle from his older brother, a sound that went straight to Percy's groin.
"Let me count the ways…" said Charlie, which Percy found enormously pleasing. Charlie smirked and lay down on the bed. "George, what d'you think?"
"Oh yeah, that'll work." George smirked and bent down, sucking gently on the sensitive head of Percy's cock, swirling his tongue around before pulling back. "Mmmm. Had to have a taste," he explained before kissing Percy, and pulling him onto the bed.
Once there, Percy kissed the inside of Charlie's leg, intent on working his way up to Charlie's bollocks, but George stopped him.
"Maybe later for that, Perce. Turn this way." George maneuvered Percy so his back was to Charlie and he was straddling his legs. He had his wand in his hand—which was handy, because Percy had forgotten he even owned one—and George kissed Percy again. Percy felt the tingle of magic in his arse as the spell stretched and slicked him up. The reality of what he was about to do finally hit him, but he couldn't stop now, even if he'd wanted to; he was too far gone.
Charlie's hands were moving up and down his back in a soothing manner and Percy relaxed into it, kissing George with a renewed fervor.
When he pulled back, he nodded and George helped to align him and ease him down onto Charlie. Percy sucked in a breath at the burn—it'd been a while for him and it took a moment, even with the preparation spell, to adjust to the intrusion. He nodded, smiling when Charlie's soothing hands faltered as he let out a long, low moan of pleasure.
Panting, Charlie said, "Lean back, now—don't worry, you won't be too heavy."
It wasn't a position that Percy had ever tried before, but he liked being stretched out on top of Charlie's warm, solid body. He laid his head back on Charlie's shoulder and kissed him on the jaw. Charlie's big arms reached around Percy's front, running up down, stopping to tweak his nipples at each pass.
"Better hurry, George—I don't know how long I can wait. Our Percy is hot and tight," he gritted out, another short moan finishing the statement.
"Righto, big brother."
George straddled Percy, facing him and grinning, and clearly he'd used his wand on himself—Percy's large, aching cock slid into George's slick, hot channel as he lowered himself, being excruciatingly slow about it.
Once he was fully seated, George leant forward and kissed Percy deeply, and Percy moaned into his mouth. He'd never felt anything like it, this sensation of being full and being encased in the heat of another at the same time—it was pleasure so deep as to be nearly painful, an exquisite, unforgettable, absolutely delicious ache.
George moved his head to the side and Percy realized he was kissing Charlie over his shoulder. Charlie bent his knees just a bit for purchase then began a slow, building rhythm, while George raised himself then lowered in synch, so that Percy had only to lay there and drown in the sinfully erotic delight.
Percy turned his head as far as he could so that he could join in the kiss and it was a tangle of tongues and lips, until George pulled back and grabbed the headboard, as the growing chorus of grunts and moans and incoherent sounds of encouragement took over.
"Ungh, so tight."
Percy was just aware enough to reach down and grasp George's heavy, leaking cock, gripping and stroking along with the increasing frenzy of thrusting hips. "Yeah, Percy, yeah, like that. Harder, oh god, harder!"
Obeying the command, Percy was rewarded when George cried out, "Gonna come! Ahunnggh!"
Seconds later, the wave of George's climax pulled Percy over the edge, and he shattered with a cry.
George slumped forward as Charlie gave one more thrust, growling in Percy's ear and filling him with warmth.
Percy swam in the languid aftermath, knackered in the best way possible—he had never felt so sated, so fantastic in his life, he was certain.
Except for the efforts to regain regular breathing, they lay unmoving for a short while. Percy didn't know if his brothers were as reluctant as he was to break the connection, but he certainly wasn't going to disturb the moment by asking.
Charlie's arms reached around to encircle both Percy and George, and with an extraordinary heave, he toppled them to the side so that he was curled around Percy's back, and George was tucked snugly under Percy's chin.
"Somebody oughta clean us up or we'll be stuck like this forever," George mumbled into Percy's chest.
Percy felt the rumble of Charlie's chuckle and the tingle of the cleansing spell as it washed over him. His glasses were being squashed into the side of his face but he didn't care. He needn't have worried anyway—he felt Charlie pull his glasses off and watched as he reached across him and George to place them carefully on the bedside table.
He sighed in absolute contentment, safe and warm, sandwiched in between his brothers, and Percy thought that maybe being the pickle in the middle wasn't such bad thing after all.