Title: Weasley's Wizard…Porn!
Author: Verdeben
Rating: R
Disclaimer: They're not mine; they're J.K. Rowling's. Do I wish they were mine…? Oh, fuck yeah.
Warning: mostly semi-PWP, slash, twincest, hint of future incest
Pairing: Fred/George
Summary: George has a naughty idea…
Author's Notes: No real plot to this. Just sounded good in my head. If you're a Fred/George fanatic (like myself), enjoy!
"Ah, c'mon, Freddie!"
"I said no, George! I refuse to hear about another one of your whacked schemes!" Fred paused in mid-stride to glare over his shoulder at this twin. "And don't call me 'Freddie'."
This time George's voice had a sly tone to it, "You enjoyed it when I called you that last night…" The comment produced the effect he had hoped for; the other boy stopped dead in his tracks.
As he turned around, he crossed his arms, a menacing glint in his eyes. "You're going to keep bugging the hell out of me until I listen, right?" When George nodded, Fred sighed and obliged, "Fine! Tell me once we're done closing up."
Thoroughly satisfied with his persuasion tactics, the second twin busied himself by tidying up their treasured store, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The sign on the front door was turned to the side that read "closed." The shades were pulled down over the windows. Any fallen objects were placed neatly on their shelves. With a flick of a wand, all the dust and grim left from the customers' shoes was cleared away, leaving the shop sparkling clean.
And finally, the Weasley brothers adjourned to the back room for butterbeers and the revealing of George's "fantastic plan." While Fred settled onto the couch, George stood before him, twitching in anticipation. He was waiting for the okay from Fred.
After a moment, he said, "Well?" as he lifted his bottle to his lips.
George replied, perhaps a little too…excitedly (for lack of a better term), "I think we should start a porn magazine!"
A period of hacking followed since Fred had promptly begun to choke on his mouthful of beer. Having regained his composure, he exclaimed, "You've got to be shitting me!"
"No, I mean it!" insisted George. "Just think of how rich we'd be!"
"We're already pretty rich, considering," Fred grumbled. "I don't think we need skin to boost our sales."
Pouting, George said, "That's not the only reason to do it."
"Do tell."
"How many pornos have you heard about other than in the Muggle world?"
He thought for a moment. "None."
"Exactly! We'd go down in history as the first wizards to make magical sex pictures!" When there was no comment from Fred, he continued, "Ouu, so many possibilities!
So many things we could fill the magazine issues with! All kinds of fucking! Straight, gay, lesbian, threesomes, foursomes, fivesomes, finger fucking, arse fucking, bondage, foreign objects, handjobs, blowjobs, incest, twincest—"
The other boy was too preoccupied with counting the amount the varying kinks to notice Fred occasionally licking his lips and shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Finally, Fred interrupted, "Is this all absolutely necessary?"
"Um…well…no." George looked a bit sheepish and started twiddling his thumbs. "I just, you know, thought it might be fun to try…"
At that Fred took on a predatory expression. "Yes, it certainly does sound…fun." He leaned forward and snaked his arm around George to squeeze his twin's buttocks. "And, speaking of twincest," he said, remembering that from George's list, "I wonder: who will be the camera's first subjects?"
George smirked. "I was hoping you would ask that." He waved his wand, and a camera on its tripod slid forward from the corner of the room. It prepared to spend its roll of film. Then George placed the wand on the end table beside Fred's bottle and moved closer to the boy.
As Fred pulled his brother down onto his lap, he managed to guess before having his mouth smothered by George's persistent lips, "You planned this, didn't you?"
They were dimly aware of a flashbulb going off in the background.
The Great Hall was buzzing with the usual breakfast chatter. Conversations were particularly boisterous this morning, thought, due to a new arrival in the post. It had been slipped into the Daily Prophet—how, no one knows (and, truthfully, they don't want to know).
One of the many receivers of this product was Harry Potter. He was skimming through it and chuckling with Hermione when Ron took the seat across from them. Quickly, and not in the least bit inconspicuously, the pair attempted to conceal said product under the table. Unfortunately, Ron noticed.
"Hey, what is that, anyway? I've seen everyone looking at a copy of it."
"Oh, it's just a magazine," Hermione replied hurriedly. "No big deal."
"A magazine? Which one?" He was flailing his arms under and over the table, trying to snatch the booklet as Harry kept jerking it around.
"Ron, stop!" Harry pleaded. "You don't' want to read this, honestly!"
But in the end Ron won the battle. With a smug grin, he sat back in his chair, clutching his prize. "I just want to see why you guys were hiding it from me." The other two grimaced, watching Ron's expression change as he stared, wide-eyed, at the random page he had flipped to. "Oh…my…fucking…God…" The magazine fell from his hands onto his empty plate. In the photo that covered both of the pages showing was an extremely pleased-looking George, kneeling on the ground before Fred, whose prick was in his twin's mouth.
A breeze that wafted in from the open window drifted across George, cooling the sheen of sweat that coated his naked body. His head was thrashing from side to side, and he was practically panting. The bed squeaked and George's legs, which were slung over his lover's shoulders, slapped against Fred's chest from the force of the boy's movement. Fred gripped George's hips, occasionally bowing his head to kiss and bite his twin's tense abdomen. As such, the brother's formed a sort of crooked "c" in their nighttime entertainment. They went on like this till George finally spoke.
"Fred…" He swallowed and tried again, "Fred, look…"
Both halted their sexual endeavor for the time being and tilted their identical heads to peer out the window. An owl was hovering there. When he realized they had spotted him, he glided into the room and dropped a red envelope on George's stomach. Then, with, seemingly, a look of disgust at the two of them, he flew away.
"Ah, fuck," Fred muttered as George picked up the letter, "it's a Howler. Who sent it?"
George glanced at the name scribbled on the upper left-hand corner. He smiled. "Awww! It's from ickle Ronniekins!" The pair giggled as they slowly tore open the seal.
Immediately, the envelope sprang to life. And, while floating over them, it allowed Ron's stentorian, scolding speech to echo throughout the apartment: "MY GOD, WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DUMBASSES THINKING! IT'S ONE THING TO MAKE PORN, BUT WHAT YOU LOT DID IS JUST WRONG! NOT ONLY ARE YOU BROTHER'S—YOU'RE TWINS! THAT IS SICK! AND I COULD REALLY LIVE WITHOUT ALL THE POOFS OVER HERE IN HOGWARTS WANKING OFF TO THAT COCK-SUCKING PICTURE OF YOURS! IT'S GETTING RIDICULOUS! I HAVEN'T HAD ENOUGH SLEEP FOR DAYS; WE HEAR THEM GROANING ALL NIGHT LONG! AND FURTHERMORE—" There was a long period of silence where the Howler just hung there. Then Ron's voice returned, a whole lot quieter and with a more secretive air to it, "Actually, I think that's enough. Sorry 'bout that—Mum made me tell you guys off. So…if she asks, I chewed you out, all right? In fact, you might be getting a Howler from her, too…Anyway, the truth is," a hesitant pause, "I'm interested. You two, me, Christmas break next week. We'll have some fun. Oh, and bring that body chocolate, if you have any left." The letter then shredded itself, and the scraps littered George's chest.
Fred nonchalantly brushed the paper off the bed as he commented in agreement with George's broad grin, "Well, I suppose we'll enjoy ourselves with Ronnie…"
"And take pictures of him for the magazine?" He clapped his hands, delighted at the idea.
"But of course." He readied himself at George's entrance once more and continued his hard, fast thrusts that he knew so pleasure his partner.
Again, they were dimly aware of a flashbulb going off in the background.
...Fin...