I Must Not Tell Lies
by WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo
All things relating to Harry Potter remain the intellectual and legal property of JK Rowling.
Warning: Contains explicit description of a sexual act.
Chapter 14: The Holders of the Map
For a moment they lay, frozen into position, George with his knees up, his cock hard and the weight of a barely-sentient Harry on his chest. Then Harry opened his eyes and they stared, all green and glittering, straight into George's face. He grinned and nothing else meant anything.
"Wow," he said. Then. "I love you."
George smiled back at him.
"Oh, fuck, sorry, fuck. You're still ... you didn't -- sorry!" A frown creased the space between Harry's eyebrows. With his shoulder creaking, George put a finger to it and tried to smooth it down. Harry shifted back. He looked down between their bodies. George hoped he was looking at his cock, he hoped Harry would touch it soon, or shuffle down and take it in his mouth. He groaned with frustration.
Then Harry said, "We could ... you could ... Yes! My turn."
As he pulled out and got off George asked, "What?"
"It's fantastic! You have to do it too. Where's the oil gone?"
"Really?" Did his young lover mean what he thought he meant?
It looked like it. Harry had the oil, he was making a mess as he tipped it all over his hands, all over his own arse. Before George could stop him, he'd shoved a finger straight up his hole.
"Ow!"
"Slow down, fuck's sake. Let me. You ever had anything up there before?"
Harry looked confused. "Like what?"
"You sure about this?"
"Why are you always asking me things like that? You think I don't know my own mind?" Harry looked furious all of a sudden and George jumped out of the bed. He could go home or get into Fred's bed and wank himself off. If anyone should have been frustrated it should have been him!
"Stop fucking running away!" Harry looked so sad then that George had to grab his face and kiss him.
"You want to do it to me?" Harry asked then.
George nodded. "Just be careful," he muttered, climbing back onto the bed, on top of Harry, "you're precious." He rubbed his fingers over the blobs of gloop sticking their thighs together. "Don't rush into things." He ran careful, gentle, loving fingers into Harry's crack. They were both aware of his hot, hard prick between them, but he took it slow, massaging and teasing before he pushed just a little way in. "OK?" he asked.
Harry nodded. "Better," he admitted.
The soft heat round his finger as he pushed in was driving George wild. That's what it would feel like. He had to speed this up. Safely.
"Get up on all-fours."
"You didn't."
"You have to argue about everything?" His tone was affectionate.
"Don't take that finger out."
So they manoeuvred round the place where their bodies were joined and got Harry onto his hands and knees. Gently, George pushed down on Harry's skinny shoulders until his head was on the pillow. George finger moved. Harry hummed with pleasure.
"You look fantastic," George managed before his throat closed over and the sensuality robbed him of language again.
Harry did look fantastic. His white arse was up, bathed in wand-light, perfectly round and dimpled, with his slender limbs and torso tucked under him. George squeezed another finger in with the first and Harry whimpered.
"I like that." Harry mumbled into the pillow. "Oh I like that a lot a lot a lot. More!"
But George waited. He kept on moving those fingers until he felt the tight muscle softening and relaxing round them. Then there was a third finger and George watched the beautiful little reddening pucker open. His blood surged through him. He didn't know how he was going to stand that sensation round his cock without passing out. No wonder Harry had come so soon.
Then Harry yelped and George realised he'd hit something that felt different inside there. He stilled.
"No! Don't stop! Oh Merlin, sweet fucking Jesus, move!"
George did as he was told. He wanted to put his prick in now, he wanted to ask whether now was the right time, wanted to warn Harry. But he couldn't form words so he kept going with his hand instead until Harry, barely coherent, stuttered, "Fuck me fuck me fuck me."
So George did.
He couldn't be sure that he hadn't passed out. The world was black and red. Everything was hot and it sang. There was panting. He boiled like magma. Time became meaningless. Then everything was even more – which couldn't be possible – then it was all over.
They lay together. "Love you, Harry," George said. Then neither of them said anything for a long time.
Somehow there was birdsong and pale sunlight. George knew he had to go before he was found, but it seemed like letting go of Harry would feel like being skinned. He kissed his little nose.
"Whassa time?" Harry asked thickly.
"I love you," George answered.
Harry giggled. "S'all right then. Your mum be up soon?"
George pictured it, his mother, maybe carrying a cup of tea, opening the bedroom door and finding the two of them naked in the bed together, his arms round Harry's chest, Harry's leg thrown over his thighs. The image was enough to break the moment. Sleepily, still regretfully, he sat up and looked around for his clothes.
"See you later anyway," Harry murmured, pulling clumsily at a sheet.
"Huh?" George put his feet on the floor.
"See the shop. Is it brilliant?"
"Yeah." George pictured it, his daytime life coming back to him. "Yeah it is. All cos of you." He'd given them the money to start it all up. George hoped he'd be impressed with what he and Fred had done. He barked a laugh. "My sleeping partner!"
Harry chuckled too.
"Why you coming up to Diagon? Thought Mum was paranoid about Death Eaters." George was nearly dressed now. He sat back down on the bed to tie his shoe laces.
Harry snaked a hand onto his thigh. "School stuff," he explained.
George's guts froze.
"When's term start?"
He hadn't thought about it. Neither of them had talked about it. What was the date now? Harry would be getting on the Hogwarts Express and George wouldn't. It would be weeks. How long was a term?
"Couple of days," Harry replied dully.
They were silent and still, not looking at each other, each sinking into their own misery.
"I'll miss this," Harry said eventually. His voice was without expression, but they both knew he was understating. "It'll be Christmas."
"No. I can Apparate!"
"Not into Hogwarts."
"But Hogsmead."
Harry sighed. "With Voldemort active. I don't know. If they let us out, then yeah. It'll only be one weekend though. I'll probably have some kind of bodyguard, or spies --"
"Hang on! No! There's a way round this!" George turned to face the unhappy boy curling into himself on the bed. He was getting excited now. "Look Sirius did it, didn't he?"
"You're going to turn into a dog?" Harry questioned cynically.
"No, but --"
"Look, if there was a way in then it would be dangerous. If you can get in then so can a Dark Lord, or one of his minions. Shit! I hate being me! Last night was fantastic and I just want to spend the rest of my life making love with you and forget about saving the world and --" Whatever else Harry was saying between sobs got gagged by George's shoulder as he was dragged up into a hug.
"Shush a minute," George stroked down the black hair. It bounced back up again as soon as his hand passed over it. "You've got the map. Whoever has the map is special. You had it, we had it, Sirius and your Dad and Wormtail and whatever, they made it. Death Eaters don't know what we know. He knew, I know, you know. If he did it, I can do it."
Harry pulled his face away, looked up into George's face. He didn't look so sad any more. George's heart skipped. They were talking about Sirius and Harry hadn't broken down.
"The Shrieking Shack?" Harry asked.
"I hadn't thought of that. Yes, there as well. And that tunnel from Honeydukes."
Harry sniffed and smiled. "Yeah."
"I'll owl you, then you look for me on the map."
"Yeah." Harry scrambled up to kissing position. "Couple of more nights here anyway." He leaned forward.
A stair squeaked.
George leapt out of Harry's arms and across the room, grabbing his wand, removing the locking and silencing spells, diving into the grate.
Harry wiped his wet face on the pillow. He lay back to enjoy the end of the dawn chorus.