bTitle:/b A little bit of Muggle magic
bAuthor:/b naturegirlrocks
bRecipient:/b lj-user="tania_sings"
bPairing(s):/bGeorge/Oliver
bWord Count:/b ~ 3700 (shamefully short)
bRating:/b NC-17
bSummary:/b George has a new hobby and Oliver is invited.
bWarnings:/b slash, flashbacks, tiny bit of angst (– but for a good cause)
bA/N:/b maybe not as much Muggle life as you hoped for, but the boys are boys and the sex is (hopefully) a bit playful, well there is sex anyway...
i17 November 2006/i
"Come on!" Lee Jordan hurried his companion on. "We'll miss the show."
"This is a Muggle pub," noted Oliver Woods.
"I know," laughed his friend and showed him inside. "It's brilliant. Good, they have not started yet."
Oliver let his old schoolmate show him to a table. It was actually a nice pub, with an old time bar desk and a small stage for entertainment. There were quite a lot of people there waiting for the show. A board on the stage told Oliver that they were waiting for "the Great Magician Geronimo".
At the table he was greeted by Bill and Charlie Weasley. The brothers shook his hand enthusiastically.
"Congratulations on the Cup winning," said Charlie.
"I thought you where Canon-fans in your family?" smiled Oliver sitting down.
"We are not too fond of The Bolts," nodded Bill. "But we are gracious in defeat. Anyway, you did an excellent job, not everybody can make so many goals so they can outdo the snitch. That deserves respect."
"Thank you," Oliver bowed his head.
"But the Canons did catch the snitch," smiled Bill.
Lee had left to get them drinks. Oliver sighed, if he was going to suffer though an evening of Canon-fans, Muggles, and simple card tricks and rabbits hidden in hats, he hoped the beer was good. Real wizards had no need for this kind of cheap theatrics, but some were still interested in Muggle magic. There among obviously Lee, Charlie and Bill. He would not have believed that.
Oliver looked up as a very beautiful blond girl entered the stage. She was wearing a very short glittery blue dress and her blond light hair was fitted in airy locks. Several of the men in the audience whistled as she took the stage and moved the sign to the side. Oliver immediately noticed the wand she had hidden up her long blue gloves. She was a witch.
"My wife's sister," said Bill glaring at a male Muggle doing a wolf call. "Gabrielle."
"Really?" Oliver looked surprised at the young woman, was she the reason they where here?
The witch threw her long hair over her shoulder; she smiled alluringly at the audience with red lips. There were some catcalls that she ignored with yet another pleased smile.
"Madames and gentlemen," she said with a strong French accent, holding out her hand. "Ze great Geronimo!"
There was some applauds as a man in a black suit entered the stage. Oliver sucked in some air as he recognized the ginger man. George Weasley!
"Brilliant," snickered Lee as he put down a pint of dark lager next to Oliver.
Bill and Charlie whistled and whooped.
Oliver cringed a bit and glanced irritably at Lee. He could not really blame the oblivious man, but he wanted to. Nobody had known about him and George, it had been such a short fling, even he had trouble believing it. The brief relationship had been intense and George had buried his pain and loss in Oliver over and over again. In the end Oliver had to leave for the Tour and had not been back since.
i8 May 2006
George Weasley stood leaned against in the cloakroom of the Burrow and let himself be taken from behind by Oliver Woods. He breathed roughly, biting down on his lip, so not to disturb his friends and family just a few feet outside the door. Their trousers round their ankles, pants at their knees and their shirts still buttoned.
"Harder," he growled.
He did not like that Oliver tried to be tender, he had enough of that. All day people had come up to him, petting him on the shoulder, giving him sad looks. This was the eighth memorial of Fred's funeral and George just wanted it to be over.
Oliver increased his pace and slammed him painfully to the wall with his hips. 'Yes', thought George as he came, clenching around Oliver's arousal and warm orgasm, 'this is what I have been missing'. They sunk down to the floor, breathing.
"When are you leaving?" asked George.
"Two days," Oliver had not yet opened his eyes.
"Good…"/i
"Thank you," George smiled lightly with a bow to his audience. "I'm glad to see that so many have returned for this evening's performance.
"Whoop!" called Charlie.
"Thank you, total stranger," George bashed his eyelids and pulled out a deck of cards from nowhere, or more correctly from the Wizard Space in his sleeves. "The heckling this evening will be preformed by my lovely brother over there. He is single, ladies… and lads."
There was a small laugh running though the audience as George begun to shuffle the cards with great skill without any magic.
"He is actually quite good," said Lee leaning to Oliver. "I find the most fun is to try to spot when he uses magic, when he is not, or when Gabrielle casts a spell for him." He took a swig at his beer. "I have seen it three times now, and I still can't figure out everything he does. And what is really sneaky, is that he changes his act all the time."
Oliver nodded, felling himself being mesmerized by George's quick skilful hands. The black clad man leaned forwards, letting a woman sitting at the edge of the stage pick a card. Gabrielle struck a pose, showing off her long legs, behind him. She was obviously distracting some of the audience to look too closely at the card trick.
George found the woman's card in one of her shoes. There where enthusiastic applauds. Oliver had not seen the Transfer-spell and was a little impressed.
"How did he get in to this?" he asked as George let Gabrielle pull out several meters of brightly coloured handkerchiefs from the left leg of his pants, it seemed to come from nowhere.
"After Fred died, he was quite down," said Bill leaning in to him but with eyes on the stage. "He was really in a dump after the funeral, did not see him for days. He buried himself in work. Hermione gave him a Muggle magician toy set to give him ideas for merchandise for the joke shop; he has really taken to it, as you see."
"Good for him," Oliver could not help but to laugh in his beer glass as a pair of long johns underwear slipped out of Georges pants tied to the handkerchiefs.
"Good for all of us," Bill gave him a sad smile. "We were afraid we were going to loose him too."
"Did you not wear the pink ones today?" called Charlie to the stage.
"No Big Brother," smiled George showing a perfect row of white teeth. "I never use your underwear."
The audience laughed and Charlie seemed to relax a little. Oliver bit his lip.
George preformed some more simpler tricks, most of them consisting of hiding five red foam rubber balls in his hands, in his ears, in Gabrielle's cleavage and in the hair of a Muggle in the first row. Oliver found that he really was enjoying himself and that he was becoming more and more impressed with George's skill with his hands. And, not to forget; he thought the ginger man looked absolutely adorable in his silly Muggle suit.
i9 May
George felt painful throbs though his body as his now soft member left the warm inside of Oliver's body. He had been so caught up in the moment that he had forgotten the time and the clerks down the store would probably wonder where he had gotten to. He did not care.
"When are you leaving?" he asked.
"The day after tomorrow…" answered Oliver looking away.
"Good… "/i
"For my next number I need to get a volunteer from the audience, preferably someone handsome!"
"Here! Here!" shouted all three of Oliver's tablemates at once, grabbing hold of him and pushing him to his feet.
"Oh!" George looked at Oliver for the first time, and recognising him. A shadow passed over his face so fast that it was never there. "Another perfect stranger!" His voice broke a little. "What a surprise. Honestly guys," he laughed and wagged a finger to his brothers and Lee.
Gabrielle had already jumped of the stage, striding her way to Oliver. She graciously avoided all assaults of would-be arse-clapping from the male part of the audience like she was floating though the air. Oliver was not that lucky and got a rather painful clap on his arse by Lee as he rose to follow her.
"Well," said George, welcoming him up on the stage, acting too nonchalant for Oliver's taste. "At least he is handsome. So, perfect stranger, can you hold on to this for me?" He held up a key, showing it to the audience. "Put it in your pocket."
Oliver took the simple key, studied it, and placed it in his trouser pocket.
"Good, now are you not warm in that jacket?" George pulled on the garment, seemingly dusting it off. "Gabi, help Mr. Woods out of this."
The girl stepped forwards, sliding the jacket of Oliver's shoulders. He put it over her arm without hiding any part of her own body. Oliver shifted nervously in his shirt. He wondered why he felt so nervous now, when he only yesterday had stood alone, relaxed, on a pitch surrounded by hundreds of screaming fans.
"Oh, you do work out," said George patting him over the chest under the amusement of the onlookers. "Mr Woods is a professional athlete, did you know, Gabi?"
"Oui, zat I know," said the girl, posing with Oliver's jacket over her arm. "Zomezing to do wit bats, yez?"
"Indeed, my pretty," George's eyes glimmered and Oliver could feel a spell being cast. "Pray tell me Mr. Woods, is that a bat in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"
He quickly looked down to his pants, terrified that George had given him some kind of Hard-on-hex. There was some wicked laughter over his hasty glance. George face was the image of innocence.
"Allow me to relive you, Mr Woods."
George moved so fast and in such a direction that even Oliver's Bludger trained senses was surprised. Before he knew it George had his hand down the front of his pants. There were combinations of whistles and gasps from the audience.
"Relax, I am a professional!" declared George to the room and grabbed something next to Oliver's, disturbingly interested, cock. "Here we go!"
George looked into his eyes and pulled out a long flat wooden quiddich-bat from Oliver's pants. Oliver noticed that it was quite new and of his favourite design. He was handed the bat graciously as there was a loud round of applauds. The bat was obviously too big to have been hidden in Oliver's pants.
"For being such a good sport," said George.
"Thank you," Oliver felt like blushing.
"Gabi, dear. Would you help Mr. Woods on with his jacket again?"
As the girl moved forwards there was a call from the audience, a Muggle man by the bar.
"Show us your pockets!" he called. "She probably put something there!"
"Oh yee of little faith," George rolled his brown eyes and gave Oliver an obvious flirtatious wink, that really sent his cheeks blushing. "Let's go though you pockets then. I think I begin in this one!"
George plunged his hand in Oliver's back pocket cupping his arse. Oliver yelped, dropping his new bat to the floor. Again there was a roar of laughter.
i10 May 2006
"You okay?" Oliver's brown eyes starred into his.
"Yes. More."
Then they were fucking, Oliver lifting and dropping George down onto his cock, their hips snapping. George locked his legs tighter, taking every thrust, taking every movement of Oliver inside him hitting his prostate.
"When…. are you leaving?" he panted, clawing the strong shoulders beneath his hands.
"Tomorrow," grunted Oliver.
"More…" /i
Oliver could feel George's fingers passing over his wand, and thought for a moment that he was gong to take it, but George passed by. Instead the pulled up a coloured handkerchief, just like the ones that had previously been pulled from his own pants leg. He gave it to Gabrielle, who held out her hands. She waved the small cloth around while George busied himself fondling Oliver's other arse cheek though the other back pocket.
"Sorry," he whispered in Oliver's ear.
He took out all five foam rubber balls from the pocket, and gave them to the girl. Again there had been no real magic, just the speed of George's fingers.
George moved on to pulling out a pair of pink long johns from Oliver's left pocket (it had been hidden in his shirt sleeve).
"Really, Charlie!" said George waggling the garment to his brother. "Are you really that desperate?"
"Not everybody can be as subtle as you," snickered Charlie, stepping forwards to the stage and taking the long johns. "Pulling wood out of Woods' pants, brother?"
Oliver noticed the look between the brothers. Charlie was worried about something.
George wand appeared from nowhere in his hand.
"Now for the jacket. Please Gabi."
Gabrielle held up the jacket by its shoulders. George moved his wand over the garment but did not produce any kind of spell what Oliver could see. He must have done something though since he continued to pull up a small white rabbit from one of the jacket pockets.
"Really, Gabi? Why are you trying to slip bunnies to Mr. Woods?"
"Pardon," smiled the woman, letting go off the jacket to take the rabbit.
The jacket still hung in air like when she was holding it up, that had been her spell. There were some spontaneous applauds from the audience. Oliver could not determine who had cast the levitation spell.
With an elegant move George took the jacket from the air and helped Oliver put it on. He adjusted the collar, giving him a meaning look.
"There you go, handsome." George turned to the audience. "Give him a hand please."
There were applauds as Oliver left the stage and returned to the table. Well there he had to gulf down the entire glass of lager to calm his nerves. Again he wondered how he could handle a horde of autograph hunters but lost his cool around one single man. He held his new bat tight as Bill bought another round of drinks.
On stage George continued with his theatrics, with the help of Gabrielle, for about thirty minutes. Most of it revolved around the five red balls, but he was also very skilled in stacking, juggling and mixing cups and hiding things in them – all done without any magic. Oliver was truly enjoying himself and could not help to smile at the glances George shot him from time to time.
"He has missed you," said Charlie in a low voice as Bill and Lee went to the bar once more to replenish their drinks. "He told me what happened, only me I might add."
"I guess I have missed him too," Oliver smiled as George lifted Gabrielle up in his arms and let go without her falling down. "He is walking a thin line showing this to the Muggles."
"Everything he does have been done by Muggles magicians before," Charlie accepted his lager from Lee. "He just takes a shortcut not available to them. Anyway, Harry got him a licence."
i11 May
George sat in his lonely bed, looking out the window. He had one of Oliver's shirts on, one that was left behind…/i
"Mr Woods?"
Oliver looked up as George's voice called out to the room
"Yes?"
"Do you still have the key?"
"Yes."
"Would you please come up here for the last act?"
Oliver rose and went back up on the stage where George took his hand and looked out at the audience.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, you have been wonderful! I hope to see you again." He got a wicked grin on his face and pulled Oliver closer to him. "Charlie, tell mom I won't make it for supper tonight. Gabi, if you please?"
With that Gabrielle threw a big silk cloth over the both of them. The next moment there were whisked away by the Portkey in Oliver's pocket.
"Smooth move," said Oliver as George opened the apartment with the used Portkey.
"I live to impress," smiled the red-head and let him in.
"Your show was impressive…"
"Care fore a private performance?"
As his answer Oliver leaned in and kissed him. It felt so much better then rising the Quiddich over his head the day before. He hummed his enjoyment as Georges hands found their way to his back and caressed it.
"You did not owl," whispered George a little out of breath as the kiss broke.
"I wanted too, but I did not know what to say…" he stroked a lock of wayward red hair away from the brown eyes. "It had all happened so fast, and you were upset most of the time, acting like you did not want me be threre. I convinced myself that you were grieving after the memorial and using me to…"
"I was upset because you were leaving…"
"And then I left…"
"And then you left…"
"But I'm here now."
"Will you stay?"
"I have been invited for a private performance by the Great Geronimo," said Oliver with a smirk. "I guess it would be rude to leave before he has shown me at least a few tricks."
"I'll show you them all, but it will take time," George gave him a light kiss.
"I got three months 'til the Nationals," Oliver responded with a kiss of his own.
"That's good for a start…"
Oliver's hand searched for the buttons on George's trousers, when he found them he looked down and laughed.
"Are you wearing pink long johns?"
"Got a good deal on a crate, expect some for Christmas."
"What if I what these?" he stroke the crotch of the undergarments.
"I'd say… come and take them… if you can…"
Oliver took another step forwards and caught the redheads mouth in his. He revelled in the almost forgotten taste of George's mouth. Bitterness and sweetness mixed together over his taste buds and the memories of those three intensive days washed over him. Their teeth clacked.
George pulled him closer, his hand lurking its way inside Oliver's shirt, clutching the hair there. The redhead had always seemed fascinated with the hair on Oliver's chest, having nothing there himself. Oliver loved the ruffling touches and moaned into George's lips, biting down on the lower one.
"Is that another bat in your trousers, Ollie?" snickered George. "Or are you just happy to see me?"
"I have never been happier to se anyone in my life," whimpered Oliver, grinding his hips without finding proper relief.
To his disappointment George let go of his body, but arched as eager hands found their way down to his belt.
The redheads face lit up in a mischievous grimace and Oliver knew he was I trouble. He could not struggle out of his trousers and underwear fast enough.
George stepped back, breathing hard, his ridiculous pink long johns were stretched and moist. Oliver could not help but laugh. George winked and let this fingers trail the edges of the underwear, his trousers were around his knees.
Oliver stepped forwards and pushed the man to the opposite wall. Pulling down the pink monstrosities, he pushed their naked erections together. The touch made George head lurch back and hit the wall, rather painfully by the looks of it.
"You okay?" murmured Oliver, rocking slightly.
He only got a grunt for an answer, but it sounded positive. He was reassured when his lips were covered by that bitter sweetness again. They both whimpered and moaned as Oliver pushed harder.
George's arms trembled as he pressed of the wall and slid his cock teasingly over Oliver's hip.
"Ollie, please let me…"
"What are you waiting for?"
Nothing obviously, since George slid down the wall to his knees taking Oliver with him. He settled his arse on George's knees. At this position the hair on his collarbone was left open for the wicked mouth. He felt the intakes of breath as George breathed in his scent.
A lubrication spell was whispered and coated George's length. This is going to be rough, he thought, but it was just how he wanted it. He lifted himself on to George's waiting cock. His unstretched hole ached as he pushed down. He panted hard.
A trembling hand want though his hair, another one trailed his back while nervous kisses trailed his collarbone. Oliver's fingers dug down on the freckled shoulders as he began to move.
"I missed you!" he panted. "I should have…"
"Schhh…" George silenced him by thrusting upwards.
The sound broke his heart and rebuilt it in a second. He leaned back, taking support on his own arms and hands on the floor behind him. He blessed his trainer, and all the push ups that were assigned to his training programme, as he moved up and down with his hips.
The change in angle and weight made George half-scream in delight. Their muscles rocked. Oliver gave a scream of his own as his prostate was rubbed over and over again. Then he exploded over his half-open shirt. His cry of ecstasy was jumbled with George's as he too was released.
Oliver's arms could not hold him up and they buckled at the elbows. He slid of George and landed, panting, on the floor. Before he knew what happened a body was on top of him and a mouth was kissing him.
"Now that was some performance," said Oliver.
"Want to be my volunteer again tomorrow?" George wiggled his eyebrows.
"You have a show tomorrow?"
"Yes," George smiled decadently. "And I think I'm going to saw you in half…"
i11 May 2007/i
It was the pre-Tour fest. It was Oliver's last chance to party, officially, before devoting the next six months to sober Quiddich. He had spent the two last months since the Nationals living above the joke-shop with George. He had been used as a test subject for more tricks, products and Muggle magic than he wished to remember.
As a parting gift he had given George a Tour-ticket that would let him come to all the Bolts' matches, where ever they played. George had accused Oliver or turning him into a 'Quiddich-groupie' and then given him a brand new owl.
"So how's bout them Liverpool Levitators?" asked Percy, holding hands with Gabrielle and sipping his non-alcoholic beverage.
"Are you trying to get inside information for illegal betting?" the elderly wizard, who had several non-non-alcoholic drinks, narrowed his eyes.
"Ollie," whispered George, "Go rescue my brother and his fiancé from the Quiddich President."
"Illegal betting is a real problem you know," Oliver rolled his eyes with teasing smile.
"Percy is not a criminal, just shit at social conversation and he is dragging Gabi down with him. Go help them!"
"How did I get stuck with such a bossy boyfriend?"
"With the help of a little Muggle magic," smiled George. "And a gorgeous arse."