Bottom Harry One Shots

Truly A Sight

Summary: It feels powerful, that he can make people like him with only hip movements, no words necessary but here - here he does not feel powerful.

Ship: FredxDracoxGeorge

All credit goes to Prettylittlething_uglylie on Ao3

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"Well, well, well, would you look at that, Gred?"

"Truly a sight, Forge."

The voices are familiar in the way that the cold but lavender scent of the high-beam corridor his home carries but it holds none of the warmth. The tones did not carry his mother's lilting song and her warmth, her sensuality and her beautiful confidence, her bravado; he aims to be everything his mother may be.

His eyes flicker all the way open and he is greeted with a blur of red hair, freckles, and Quidditch field tans, and he is shocked. The sight makes his stomach churn but his heart flatter and he squirms a little bit - the mattress beneath his body feels a bit too soft and the white sheets get caught between his toes that he had seen in his peripheral and the Weasley twins lurk over him.

"Isn't he so pretty?"

He doesn't know which one says it as his vision spins and his head feels as though he is a bit drunk on the booze he and Blaise get drunk on down at a muggle's pub before fucking or dancing and teasing anyone interested - he loves the sensuality of grinding against a boy he knows could never have feelings for him more than a best friend, just feeling the cock nestled against his ass as he dances and smiles and flirts. It feels powerful, that he can make people like him with only hip movements, no words necessary but here - here he does not feel powerful.

"Did you..." He's suddenly aware that he's naked. He doesn't know how it didn't hit him sooner but when it pours over his head like water, Draco is speechless; his palate dry and he glances between them, voice growing a pitch higher, "Did you....strip me bare?!?"

"Dray," Fred slurs, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck when he is looking at George and they're suddenly shifting him to press his back against Fred's chest with firm calloused hands and Draco wants them in his mouth - oh Jesus, he thinks, feeling faint before he starts to struggle. "Be a good boy."

George flattens his hands up and down Malfoy's pale legs through the white sheets, only a few shades off of his own skin tone, "C'mon, Malfoy, stop being a brat."

And George's left pointer and middle finger slip into his mouth like he could hear those thoughts and despite his internal screaming, Malfoy swirls his tongue around the rough callouses and can taste broomstick-oil in his fingerprint crevices. Malfoy can taste every inch, every line, and Malfoy feels half-tempted to tear into the flesh to keep a part of the twins in him forever. He is aware of Fred lining hickeys on his neck but he is falling into George's deep brown eyes as he suckles on the ridges of his fingertips and George's eyes are full of a dangerous trickle in his want.

Malfoy wants him to express all that danger and he watches him for a moment until Fred laughs a little. "You'd think you actually have any dominance here, Dray."

He groans around the digits until George laughs,

"Truce, hon. I'm not keen on this fantasy."

"Me neither," Fred admits softly, and when George peels his fingers out of his mouth with a pop, Draco whines despite not wanting to and the saliva is a string between him and George's fingers.

"Understandable..."

He feels both boys nod and he is tempted to comment on their rules about hickeys but then he just groans again, "Will you boys still fuck me then?"

"Yeah!"

"Yes!"