The Misadventures of the Weasley Brothers
by
FireValkyrie
Chapter 11: Snake Charmer, Lion Tamer
sSs
"Ow George!"
"Dammit Live!"
She twisted beneath him, more entangled than ever and sure there would be bruising tomorrow. Did he have to tackle her to the floor so hard? And so many times in one day? And here she had almost made it- on the very threshold of the door that Kel was being mercilessly tortured behind.
George quickly had her back on her back in the previous position, wrestling her and sitting atop her angrily, pinning her wrists none-too-gently to the floor. Both were panting terribly with the adrenaline of the chase rushing through them, chests heaving and both surprised at the other.
Live, looking at the expression on George's face, felt a brief tremor of fear pass through her, and threw herself against him with all her might to flee, which was hardly enough force on her part for escape.
"George, let me up," she said sternly with an edge of panic, trying to be calm and get enough air into her lungs at the same time while dealing with this new fear. He looked incredibly pissed off, and moreover, she'd basically made a fool of him. Now she had reason to fear.
"No," he told her harshly with a frown, pressing himself hard against her to discourage any more ideas that ended with freedom. The sudden sensation that went through her at his pressure confused her greatly, but she pushed it aside, deciding to deal with it later.
"Let me up," she repeated, trying to mask her fear and thinking of some way to get out of this.
"No, Live," he repeated sternly. "Who the hell do you think you are, pulling something like that?!" he demanded. It was obvious that he was trying to keep his anger in check, restraining the impulses to throttle her and throttle her good.
And the tone of his voice relayed as much to her. "George, please," she tried begging, knowing that she was in deep and that she now desperately wanted her freedom. But he shouldn't be so angry about it, should he?
"It's 'please' now, is it?! Dammit! Just who do you think you are, Live?! I thought you'd really fainted! You don't play like that!" He was almost shouting, and while it both worried and frightened her, it made her almost smile as well: he had been concerned.
"George…" she tried again, mildly touched that the evil twin had some caring in him, and that it had been for her. Though she still feared his tone and look. She wanted up.
"No, you don't do that! After today and at the pond and stuff, you just don't do that, Live!" She wanted her arms free to- of all things- hug him and tell him she was fine and she was actually really sorry and that, yes, it was indeed a shitty stunt for her to pull. But there was no chance at getting her arms- or any other part of her- free. He was on her hard and unrelenting and he wasn't about to let her up.
"George, I didn't mean it," she promised softly, sincerely, her eyes straying away from his own anger-clouded ones with guilt. She knew when she was wrong, and it wasn't below her to apologize as such. Whether he was trying to or not, he was laying on a heavy guilt trip and Live had a one-way ticket to shame-town.
"It doesn't matter if you meant it or not! You don't do that!" he repeated again, her words doing almost nothing to placate him. He'd really been concerned, actually concerned for the Slytherin witch, and she'd played him like a fool.
"Well if you hadn't pinned me I wouldn't have had to do it!" she replied a bit angry herself in afterthought. He caused this, didn't he? She didn't ask to be pinned by him. He chased her up here! What was she supposed to do?
"If you didn't fight me, I wouldn't have had to pin you!" he responded in kind. She 'hmph!-ed' at his statement as he watched her, his ire growing. "Live, you died today. And I brought you back, and after that you don't play in that same way!" he shouted suddenly with incredible seriousness, releasing the stress of the day that had apparently been pent up inside. His outburst about the lake surprised him as much as it did her, and he guessed he wasn't as untouched by the whole event as he originally thought he'd been. He was just in need of a little catharsis.
Her eyes were wide and body still as she digested the information with shock. So she hadn't simply blacked out. "Nobody told me that…"
"Well…Now you know! And don't ever play like that again, Live! I mean it!"
She could barely comprehend the situation as she looked him in the eyes. His frustration and concern mirrored her own feelings, and she now especially felt like a real jerk. "I'm sorry, George. Okay? I'm really sorry," she apologized, meaning every word as she read the anger and worry and concern on his face. Had she known the exact details of what went down this afternoon, she wouldn't have pulled the fainting bit. No wonder he was so angry with her. She'd obviously freaked him out bad once today, and apparently once was enough. Evidently, he wasn't as devil-may-care as she had taken him for.
He frowned at her, tightened his grip on her wrists, and clamped his knees tighter around her thighs. "You will be," he said in a deep voice which resonated in a vengeful, promising way that Live had only heard other Slytherins use when they meant business. Her eyes widened as he sat straight above her, no longer leaning over her menacingly, and actually had a smile on his face.
Oh shit, I've summoned his Slytherin side.
"George," she said in a cautious, warning tone as his smile increased, pleased with the change in her voice and facial expressions. It was obvious to him that she was scared, oh yes, and he knew it was high time she got a little payback for all her Slytherin wickedness. Of course, he had to ignore the fact that she looked deliciously bedraggled beneath him, her shirt down even lower in a way that he was positive could get ticketed for on public streets, showing him amounts of skin that he no longer had to use his imagination to see. Her honeyed hair was splayed about her head like a mock-halo- soft to the touch, he was sure- and her affrighted green eyes were vibrant with color.
Yes, if he could ignore all that, he could begin her punishment for duping him in such a way and start getting the revenge which he'd originally set out for, regardless if she was sorry or not.
"Oh my dearest, I'm afraid you're going to get some serious payback for your trickery," he said with a smile and in such a different tone of voice that Live immediately started wriggling beneath him out of fear. He closed his eyes involuntarily at the pleasurable sensations it incurred as he forced her still with his own body, settling hard upon her as she gasped with the sudden pleasure his closeness brought. What in the hell was wrong with her?
"George…Let me up. Right now." Her voice lacked the conviction and demand she usually employed, partially because she was scared…partially because she realized how bad it would look if someone were to come upon them in this manner. She looked into his eyes, mustering what she thought was an intimidating glare, and slowly moved against him in persuasion and distraction.
"I-mmm…No, stop that. You're in no condition to be making demands, my love. And I think you're going to rather enjoy my revenge. Shall I tell you about it?" She glared at him in response. He cheerily took that for a yes. "Have you ever been tar-and-feathered?"
Her eyes widened. It would figure it would take her to wake up the dormant Slytherin side of George Weasley. She decided the first chance she got she was going to stick it to that smart-aleck sorting hat. It didn't know what its business was. George had obviously been sorted wrong. "George, if you don't let me up right now I'll-"
"You'll what?" he challenged, watching her with more relish than he should. He mentally chastised himself for such traitorous thoughts, even if it did all seem so utterly horribly right.
"I'll scream bloody-murder." He raised an eyebrow at her as she looked at him intently, trying to gauge his reaction.
"You wouldn't."
"I would."
"You don't have the gall to do it," he decreed. "You'd look stupid if you did."
"You'll look stupid if I do! I'm going to scream my head off by the count of three if you don't get off me. And don't think for a second a scream like mine can be ignored. Everyone'll be up here in two-shakes of a lamb's tail and then you'll get it," she threatened weakly. She failed to mention that if she did scream and everyone came to her aid, she too would be found in this compromising position. But it was the only threat she had, and use it she would.
"You won't do it," George stated assuredly, keeping her tightly pinned.
"One…"
He watched with almost bored amusement.
"Two…"
He settled on her hard, which happened to be a mistake, the both of them suffering the after-shocks of such sudden sensual contact that she shuddered.
"Three…" she gasped. He still didn't move off her and looked too smug for his own good. "Are you going to get off me then?"
"Not a chance," he responded. She looked quite resolute, and he was about to ask her if she was ready to admit she wouldn't scream when she opened her mouth and took a big breath.
George panicked, knowing she was about to scream and not knowing what course of action to take. He couldn't rightly release a wrist to cover her mouth else he suffer bodily harm, but if he didn't, she'd bring everyone running. So he did the one thing that his body and hormones had been demanding of him the whole time:
He kissed her.
Live was beyond shocked and wide-eyed with disbelief. George was kissing her. Just right out of the blue, and the worst part about it wasn't that she could do nothing, nor that he had her trapped. It was that it wasn't at all unpleasant, and apparently George was quite good at it, too. She was lip-locked with him and while she should be angry that he was clearly taking advantage of her, she couldn't care less. She moved beneath him, wanting her hands to be free from their idle inactivity and urge him for more, but couldn't.
George, on the other hand, couldn't believe himself. What had gotten into him? Was this what happened when you had Sexlexia? Were they curing it now? What he was doing was wrong on so many levels and in so many countries it wasn't even funny. He had Live pinned; was, this time, clearly taking advantage of her; it was the Slytherin Snake Queen he had his mouth sealed on; she was Live Hunter, contrary epitome to everything he stood for; and the worst of all: glory above he was enjoying it.
But he knew he had to stop, had to let her go, and had to put an end to this. Even if he enjoyed the way she tasted, that sweet female scent, and the way he liked her body beneath his, feeling her feminine attributes against his chest. He could feel her trying to get her wrists free while she seemingly struggled, and he knew that whatever bodily harm she would now do to him, he deserved it, and it had been worth it.
He let her wrists go and broke the kiss, still sitting atop her and looking as surprised as she did, if not a bit sheepish. She looked at him and he looked at her, and of its own volition, her hand smacked him on the side of the face. He put his hand to his lightly-stinging cheek as they just stared right back at one another with curious, surprised, panting expressions in silence. Then she did something he wouldn't have seen coming in a million years:
She grabbed him, put her arms around his neck, and began kissing him anew.
He grinned, not daring to question this and only too happy to oblige as they tangled hands in each other's hair and pawed one another mercilessly, grinning as legs went flailing all over the place, the occasional giggle as one of them kicked the wall.
sSs
"Kelena-" Fred was surprised. Did his voice just crack? Oh for the love of Godric his voice just cracked!
"Fred, you…" Words died on Kelena's lips as Fred looked at her so intently and so calculatingly that she wasn't sure if she was capable of sounds equivalent to any human language. Any second she knew she was going to faint, from his touch or lack thereof. Damn, Sexlexia was dangerous! She'd have to bring this up at the next Guild meeting. They needed to form a support group.
Fred, on the other hand, looked like he was at the end of his rope and was going to either burst or pass out from all this tension. A fine sheen of sweat was gathering on his brow from all the mental (and physical) restraint he'd been using, but with her so close and so willing and so sensual and so very very very scantily-clad, it was all he could do not to throw her on the bed and shag her senseless.
He knew that, by all the powers that be, he shouldn't be considering let alone thinking such a thing, as per the reasons he had even come up here, and what he owed her (revenge) and owed to his twin (vengeance), but damn it all, if he was capable of controlling himself right now, he'd eat Buckbeak.
He grabbed her gently about the hips as she splayed her fingers on his still T-shirt covered chest, exploring the contours and muscles and the promises of a six-pack which wasn't yet developed. She wanted to etch this into her subconscious and be able to mentally retreat to it any time she wanted after this was over. She knew that soon, she'd have to send him away, and deciding that sending him away before a make-out session was just as good as sending him away after a make-out session, she explored his chest and musculature shamelessly, making the tension rise high and her body beg for him.
Poor Fred was entranced by her bosom, feeling like he was its defenseless captive, helpless to its charms, and changing from her breasts to her face helped him escape no greater. Looking at her lips almost made him moan at the sight, and looking into her eyes were no better. He saw the same restraint, same control, and same point of breaking that he knew were reflected in his own. He looked into their depths to see passion and promise and desire and- was it eagerness?
He tried to control his hands' exploration of her body, keeping her close yet wanting to look at her everywhere, and if he tried to stop himself it was not betrayed by his face or his busy hands. He didn't know what he was going to do or say if George asked him how it went, and he didn't know if he wanted revenge anymore. All he knew right now was that he wanted her and wanted her bad.
He grabbed her tightly as a moan was heard. Was it hers? Was it his? His heart was thumping as madly in his chest as hers, so loud he thought it echoed in the room as he moved down close to her, feeling her breath on his lips and filling his nostrils with her musky feminine scent. He heard the thump again, and apparently she did too, but didn't care as she pulled his lips to hers, millimeters apart as the door was suddenly kicked open with a loud 'THUMP'.
If all the sexual tension and frustration didn't give Kelena early heart-failure, then this sight would surely be the cause.
Fred and Kel gaped as there on the floor before the threshold, Live and George were making-out without a scrap of propriety or restraint as they pawed one another shamelessly. Hands were on Live where Fred was positive he'd touched Kelena twice over (and was currently holding her now), and Live was no more decency-ridden as she pawed George everywhere and anywhere her hands could reach (like Kelena's current choice of hand-real estate on Fred). Shirts were pushed up, hands reached down, and lips devoured one-another mercilessly.
Suffice it to say, both parties were shocked.
"LIVE!!"
"WHA-?! KELENA?!"
"GAH! GEORGE!!"
"FRED?!"
"What are you doing?!"
"What are you doing?!"
"That's the evil cat-owner!!" the Gryffindor atop the Slytherin accused.
"She's in Slytherin!!" the twin holding the bare-naked lady shouted.
"What are you DOING?!!" the scantily-clad Gryffindor accused the disheveled floor-dweller.
"What are you WEARING?!" the floor-dwelling Slytherin questioned the half-naked woman.
"What are you wearing?!" one twin asked the now scantily-clad other.
Kelena shrieked as she jumped out of Fred's arms, full realization of her evening wear coming to her mind as Fred took notice of his own. He was no longer in a plain old T-shirt, but was currently wearing a sparkly, neon-pink tube-top around his chest and looked as dumbfounded, surprised, and freaked out as ever.
Poor Kelena, having taken notice that she was currently the attraction of the evening, immediately started shimmying to change her clothing (and bra size) back to normal. She soon realized, however, that one of the set-backs of being a Metamorphmagus and having developed her skills as such, was that she had to fully concentrate to accomplish such a feat, and therefore she couldn't change anything back to the way it was.
Poor Fred, watching with ecstasy as she shimmied mercilessly, was growing terribly distressed. Here she'd been touching and, hell, seducing him all evening and now she was shimmying madly like CHARO: The next generation.
Live squeaked at the display and grabbed George's bicep in appeal to get out of there. He quickly apparated them away, but it did nothing to stop Fred's enrapturement. He quickly grabbed Kelena close against him, her panicked movements sending him into a frenzy as they both toppled over onto the bed. She'd succeeded in getting nothing back to its original size, and she promptly fainted right atop him.
Fred, in all of these happenings, with Kelena rubbing up against him and her breasts right in his face, was already so close to right out death at the hands of sexual tension that he, too, swiftly passed out, hot-pink tube-top and all.
Live and George were far more lucky. Having attempted to cure their Sexlexia, they weren't half as high-strung as Kel and Fred had been. However, both were quite perturbed by what they'd seen, even if they were both indecently-close to a state of wicked undress.
George had apparated them to some place safe within the house, and both looked at each other in the dim light of the room, surprised and bewildered.
"Where are we?" Live asked the boy above her.
"Laundry room," George told her quickly.
"Did you see-?
"Yes."
"And were they-?"
"Uh-huh."
"What were they wearing?!" Live spat exasperatedly, fully ready for an in-depth conversation about the ridiculous sight even though George had a hand dedicated to cupping her breast.
"I dunno, but what would it take to get you into an outfit like Kelena's? Is that possible?" he asked with a grin.
She glared but it went wasted on him. "Only if you're willing to wear Fred's," she replied with a playful smirk. He grinned and put his other hand under her head with a tender smile as she looked at him in the dim light. "I think they've got Sexlexia real bad."
"I'm not sure if we've cured yours, yet. Better safe than sorry," George assured, causing her to giggle as he buried his lips in her neck and started kissing her once more.
sSs
It was an hour later when Mrs. Weasley decided that she hadn't seen her sons in quite some time (or what she thought of as enough time for her sons to cause sufficient property damage). A search party was set up (at least that's what Ginny was referring to herself as) to find everyone for dessert.
She had Kara's eager help with her, and had tried to enlist Ron, but he couldn't be budged from a game of wizard chess with Harry after reflecting on the previous way he'd found Fred, George, Kelena, and Live this afternoon. He was none-too-ready to have a repeat of that, nor did he want to know what his destructive brothers might be up to.
"Fred and George can play Lion-tamer and Snake-Charmer all they want, but I'll have no bloody part in it. Not after this afternoon."
With that, Ginny and Kara set out to find their friends, as well as pack for the night's events. They were going to Grimmauld Place in a few hours, and they didn't want to be unprepared.
sSs
