Seamus is a Slutmuffin

The Twins/Seamus chapter that I wasn't going to write but a certain friend threatened me with bodily harm if I didn't. Very much a PWP chapter.
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He couldn’t be sure where his body ended. A pair of lips were attached to his neck another pair were on his mouth, nibbling assuredly on his bottom lips. Hands were all over him. He tilted his head back, breaking contact with the lips that had been chewing on his. A slight chuckle emitted from the boy in front of him.

“This all a little new for you?” Fred Weasley asked, hand trailing up Seamus’ flushed cheek. Behind Seamus, George chuckled.

“Of course it is.” He said, voice dancing with trademark, Weasley glee. “Nobody does it like we do it.” He winked broadly at Fred, leaning over Seamus’ shoulder to press a kiss to his brother’s cheek. Seamus moaned.

It was so wrong, the twins kissing and touching but at the same time, it just fit. Seamus reached forward, hand tangling in Fred’s hair, tugging the twin toward him. Fred grinned, tilted his head and claimed Seamus’ lips again. Seamus responded, opening his mouth, allowing Fred to control the kiss. The hand that wasn’t locked in Fred’s red locks, wrapped around, connected with George’s hip, dug in hard enough to bruise, pulled him closer. He could feel the flat planes of George’s washboard stomach against his spine, the unmistakeable hardness of George’s erection pressing against the small of his back.

“Hm, so what say you, George?” Fred asked breathily as his hand glided down Seamus’ own firm abdominals. Seamus’ stomach muscles contracted at the tickling sensation, he moaned quietly. “He ready for a good fuck yet?” The word fuck was twisted, deep, steeped in lust. The question caused a shiver to prickle down Seamus’ backbone.

George’s response was a hum against Seamus’ neck. He could feel the red head smirk, he rolled his hips once, grinding his erection into Seamus’ arse.

“Gee, I don’t know, Fred. He doesn’t quite seem to want it yet.” George purred into the back of Seamus’ neck. The twins grinned at each other as Seamus made a loud noise of protest.

“No, fuck,” Seamus cursed as Fred’s wandering hand dropped low enough to brush his crotch for the barest of moments, “I’m ready. Merlin…shit, I fucking need it.” George let out a dry chuckle, guttural and low, perfectly sensual.

“What was that he said, Fred?”

“He said no. He just admitted that he wasn’t ready yet.” Fred answered, hand leaving Seamus’ shivering body to slip around to George’s waist. The two kissed over Seamus’ shoulder again. “Any ideas of what we could do to make him more,” he paused, grin positively wicked, “ready?”

Seamus didn’t bother to respond to the barb, he knew what he said would only be twisted to fit the twins’ game. George’s lips brushed his ear as he answered Fred’s question.

“Maybe a show’s in order. You know how Lee’s always telling us how drop-fucking-dead sexy we are when we…” He trailed off and Seamus could feel the red head’s smile on his over-sensitised flesh. He hadn’t been with the twins before but he had heard talk of their little ‘shows’. He shivered in anticipation.

Quite suddenly, twin pairs of freckled hands were on his hips, moving him roughly, pushing him to the bed. Seamus blinked as he hit the mattress face first and he turned quickly, catching the last evil smirk that passed between the twins before they were on one another. They were kissing deeply, hands tracing mirrored patterns upon opposite sides. Seamus couldn’t be sure which twin was which; they were too alike at the same time too different. Their moves were the same, right hand slow, unsure, it traced up, cupped the opposite’s face. The left hand was bold, traced down, tangled in the patch of hair starting at the belly. With a groan, the Irishman loosed his own pants, shimming them off in a rush. The twins heard him, looked over, grinned.

“You touch yourself…” The one on the right began.

“And we leave.” The other finished breathlessly. It wasn’t an empty threat. They had one another, they didn’t technically need him, it was a passing cat and mouse game. They could have very well left him and finished one another off in some other part of the castle. The twin who had last spoken smiled evilly, hand moving south suddenly, sliding passed the barrier of pants and boxers easily, causing the other to moan.

“Merlin, George.” Fred hissed, hand falling to his twins wrist. George didn’t answer verbally, just pumped his hand. The complaint that Fred had begun to voice bubbled into a low moan. His sweat slicked forehead rolled forward, resting lightly upon George’s shoulder. His hands were glued on George’s wrist and shoulder. Seamus’ eyes were glued on George’s slowly moving hand.

He could imagine what it would feel like, warm hands, slow sure motions. He itched to touch himself as George was touching Fred but he made no move. They had straight up told him not to. Seamus grinned; the word straight had no place in context with the twins. He fisted his hands into the sheets. For an instant Seamus let his eyes drift up to the twins’ faces; Fred’s twisted into a mask of pure bliss, George’s brown eyes watching Seamus, evil smirk in place. With a wink to Seamus, he pulled his hand out of Fred’s pants. In a matter of moments the two were freed from garments of any sort.

“Wanna play too?” George asked. Seamus nodded, knowing better then to attempt to trust his voice. George smiled, hand on Fred’s chin, eyes watching Seamus. “How do you want to play?” His tongue flicked out, touched the side of Fred’s mouth.

Fred smiled, hands rested lightly on George’s stomach. He looked to Seamus, grinned, let his hand fall to George’s crotch. His twin grunted, not expecting the sudden assault, but he quickly got into it, hips undulating slightly at the touch.

“Yeah, Shea,” Fred said, his voice thick, “what’s your dream position? If you could do anything to us, what would you do?”

Seamus couldn’t answer. So many things, he would do so many things with the twin—to the twins! He couldn’t vocalise anything, he couldn’t think of any one thing. Ideas raced around his mind, blocked one another, jostled for top spot. Finally he managed the choked word.

“Sandwich?”

Fred and George’s grins were big enough to feed a small third world country. “Seamus sandwich?” Fred asked, moving away from his brother, joining Seamus on the bed, eyes dark. Seamus nodded. “What’cha think George? Does that sound like a plan to you?”

“I could see that working.” He too was on the bed, crawling up Seamus’ other side. “But who’d bottom?”

“And who’d top?”

“Which one-“

“Of us-“

“Do you want-“

“Inside of you?”

“And which-“

“Do you want-“

“To fuck?”

Their voices were in perfect tune, overlapping and switching in perfect unison. Their eyes were boring holes in Seamus’ skin. Seamus took a deep breath. It was so very perfect, so very wrong. He could only speculate for an instant what Ron would have said had he been there.

Seamus’ hand found George’s hair, he tugged the twin in, mouth ghosting across the freckled cheek. “Want you to fuck me.” He said, a bit breathlessly. His other hand fell to Fred’s knee, he kneaded the perfect dappled skin, fingers tracing ever northwards. “Wanna fuck you.” Fred and George’s grins fell back into place.

“Okay then.” They said in unison. Then twin pairs of hands were moving him, pulling him off the bed, setting up. Fred got on hands and knees in the centre of the covers, glancing almost demurely back at Seamus. George’s mouth was on his ear, whispered words gliding over his skin.

“He shouldn’t need prepping. Fred’s usually good about taking cock. Take your time entering and it should be fine.” And then Seamus was there on the bed, no recollection of how he got there, and his hand was on Fred’s hip and tracing his backbone and he was pushing into the red head. Fred let out a small squawk of protest at first but silenced himself almost immediately. In moments the sandy haired Irishman was fully seated in the red headed twin beneath him.

“Fuck-me-Merlin, Shea…if you don’t fucking move…” Fred’s threat was killed as Seamus rolled his hips experimentally. He bent over Fred’s back, hand moving from spine to shoulder, hand bracing hip tightening in grip. He rolled his hips again, slowly establishing rhythm. Only a few thrusts in however, he felt hands brushing over his own backbone.

“You ready?” George’s voice was foreign, Seamus couldn’t place why he knew it. He was too hazy from the feelings around his cock to think straight. Ready for what? Absently he nodded. And then he remembered what.

George’s hand was on his hip, not stilling him but guiding him, drawing him steadily closer with each out thrust. And then he was breeching him, causing Seamus to stiffen a little, his eyes to bug. He froze in his motions; Fred to let out a noise of complaint. Seconds later, George gave an initial thrust, sending Seamus’ hips surging forward, impaling Fred on Seamus’ cock. Seamus picked up on the game quickly. He timed his thrusts with George’s, thus pushing further into Fred. The only sound in the room was heavy breathing and small choked moans as all three worked steadily toward their individual completions.

Fred came first, body seizing up, hand freezing on his cock. George followed—twin thing probably, Seamus thought for a second as he felt George shuddering release above him—and then Seamus, moaning at the feeling of Fred tightening around him and George twitching within him. He held himself up for a second, tilting his body weight to fall next to Fred rather then on him, and he felt George do the same.

Twin pairs of arms wrapped around him, freckled hands clasping on his heaving chest. Twin kisses were placed on his rosy cheeks.

“Not bad for a days work.” One satisfied voice said.

“Not bad at all.” The other agreed.
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~Slutmuffin

Well, that was that, hope you enjoyed. Next chapter maybe tomorrow. It will include progression of the 'story' if that's what you can call this.