Fine

Written April 2006.


~~~FINE~~~


Harry couldn't stop giggling. Everything was suddenly funny. Hilarious. It didn't matter what happened or what was said. It was instantly the most humorous event in the history of the wizarding world. His sides were starting to hurt.

Ron alternately stared at him blankly or grinned widely, his deep, blue eyes half-open and most definitely tinged with red. He wondered if he looked the same, and laughed again.

"I think our newbies are completely, officially stoned, Fred," George observed with a lazy grin.

"Yep," George replied, leaning against his twin and taking a long, slow drag on their second joint of the evening.

Ron's head jerked in the direction of his brothers, his expression an uneasy mix of annoyance and concentration. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but each time, he stopped to glare about the small clearing nervously. Harry giggled almost continuously.

"I most certainly am...not," Ron finally managed.

Harry covered his mouth, his chest convulsing and his cheeks flushing bright pink.

Fred shot George a knowing glance, carefully taking the joint from his brother. "Told you," he murmured. The tip of the joint flared orange. He held the smoke in easily, eyes closed. A moment later, he opened them, offering the joint to Ron. "This is fabulous, Fred. You've outdone yourself this time."

"Thanks, bro," Fred replied, scooting closer to George and leaning his head against his twin's chest. "A few refinements. That Muggle stuff was much too harsh."

George nodded, cocking his head and staring at Ron. He sniggered. "Check it out, Fred."

Ron was staring at a rock next to his boot.

Harry nudged him, giggling.

"Your turn, Ron," he managed to get out between giggles.

Ron's head snapped up. "I'm hungry," he declared importantly. Harry nudged him again, nodding to George's hand.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Ron chirped loudly, taking the joint and pulling on it deeply.

George draped his arm about Fred's shoulder. "Yeah, this is fabulous stuff, all right, Fred. I feel just fine."

Harry had to agree. True, this was the first time he'd smoked pot, or smoked anything for that matter, but he was also feeling just fine. More than fine. Really, really, really fine.

Fine.

What a cool word. It was now his all-time favourite. Right now, everything was fine.

It seemed like years had passed since Fred tapped his shoulder in the locker room after Quidditch practice. He and George had grinned at him mischievously while Ron looked about nervously, his face pale. Fred had shown him the fat, hand-rolled joint, wagging his eyebrows and jerking his head towards the exit. George mouthed 'C'mon, Harry', smiling crookedly, an odd twinkle in his eye. Ron's mouth dropped open when he had agreed. Wood favoured all four of them with a most withering stare as they marched out of the locker room, all smiles and giggles, save for Ron, who was pouting for some reason.

"Bloody hell, not them too?" Wood called out as they went through the door. Fred blew their captain a kiss in response.

The twins had led them to a small clearing a few hundred yards down and away from the Quidditch pitch. The secluded little hollow was bordered by a nearly vertical rock wall on one side, the large trunks of the forest forming an almost perfect circle the rest of the way about. Various stones and logs were haphazardly arranged around a fire pit in the centre of the clearing; the spot was obviously a popular hang-out.

George had started a fire, more for illumination than anything else. The late spring evening was warm and clear. Fred lit the joint with his wand, passing it first to George, who then handed it to Harry. After much coughing, wheezing and drooling, the spliff had made three complete circuits before Fred carefully put out the roach and placed it in his pocket. He instantly pulled out another joint, grinning wickedly.

At first, nothing had happened. Harry thought something was either wrong with him, or with the pot. But then again, this wasn't ordinary Muggle 'weed', as Fred had called it. It was a Weasley special blend. Or something like that. It was when George had ignited the second joint that Harry finally noticed it. His lips felt funny. Strange, even. Like they were suddenly too large for his mouth. Not numb, exactly, just weird. And the clearing looked different. There was a soft haze around the fire. The light flickered and danced, reflecting on the Wesley brothers' faces, illuminating them with a warm, fuzzy glow. His brain suddenly felt like it was too small for his skull and that it was somehow insulated with cotton. He had looked over at Ron, who was staring at one of his fingernails intently.

That's when the giggles started.

"Turning on," Fred had commented, returning George's high five. Now, with the second spliff nearly gone, he was having distinct difficulty controlling his definitely numb lips. They felt large enough to stretch out and pull over his head. That image sent him into another series of giggles. Clutching his stomach, he flopped over, crashing into Ron who was having difficulties of his own.

"I've forgotten how to blink," he groaned. "What do I do now?"

Harry continued to laugh, tears leaking down his cheeks. Fred sniggered.

"Just hit it again, Ronnie," George offered, barely stifling chuckles of his own. "Everything will be fine then. Just try not to drool so much, though."

Oooh, there was The Word again. "Yeah, it'll be fine, Ron. Way fine. Very fine. Most fine!" Harry sat up and moved closer to Ron, watching intently at the redhead studied the dwindling joint, carefully guiding it toward his slightly parted lips.

Ron took a long drag, and for once, didn't cough as he handed the spliff over. As Harry took it, he noticed that George's hand was caressing Fred's chest. Fred had snuggled closer to his twin, one of his hands absently stroking George's thigh. Harry finished the joint, taking several deep hits in quick succession. He managed to keep most of the smoke in, pulling it deeply into his lungs. He put out the roach as he had seen Fred do, looking up to hand it to him. He stared across the clearing, his eyes goggling.

It must have taken him longer than he thought to finish the joint. Fred had climbed onto George's lap, and the twins were now snogging like there was no tomorrow. Their hands clutched and groped at each other as Fred rocked and moved his hips into George. George yanked Fred's t-shirt up and over his head. Fred returned the gesture, and Harry nearly fainted at the sight of all that milky, freckled bare skin. George's hand dived down inside the back of Fred's jeans. He could see George's hand moving about inside the faded denim, exploring Fred's rather shapely and attractive bum. He could hear the snaps of buttons and zippers as the twins tore open each other's jeans simultaneously.

Harry was transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away. Not that he wanted to. Actually, he'd always found it difficult not to stare at Fred and George in the locker room. Or the shower. They were the short and stocky variety of Wesley, like Charlie. Broad shoulders, large chests and arms, muscular thighs. Perfect builds for Beaters. And nice arses, too. Really fine arses.

He realized then that he really liked bloke's arses. And it was fine. Ron had a most fine arse. Nice and small and round, especially when he wore the right jeans. The ones he had on now, as a matter of fact. He had been paying so much attention to Ron's arse that he had nearly tripped a few times on his way to the clearing.

He smiled to himself. Where was that annoying guilty feeling? The pang he always had immediately after entertaining such thoughts about Ron or his brothers?

He waited a bit longer. Nothing.

Now, this was cool! It was totally fine to ogle Fred and George! It was totally fine to stare at their wonderfully muscled, naked bodies as they showered, the soap bubbles washing down and over their smooth stomachs and strong legs. It was totally fine to imagine what it would feel like to run his hands over that silky, pale, freckled skin. And it was fine to get hard when thinking about it, too. His hand moved down, and he moaned, his fingers trailing over his erection straining the denim of his jeans.

It was all fine!

He looked back over at the twins, who were now lying down. They had conjured a large blanket, with George underneath Fred. Their clothes were gone, and he marvelled at the twins' naked bodies, sweat-slicked and glowing in the firelight. George was cupping Fred's arse cheeks, pulling his brother in tightly. Fred rocked back and forth, his hands buried in George's ginger locks. He could hear their pants and moans of pleasure as they kissed almost savagely.

Harry's cock was throbbing as he rubbed it harder and harder. He decided then to make a move of his own. Why not? Everything was fine, now. It all made sense. He liked blokes. He liked them a lot. He liked the shape of them. He liked their shoulders, chests and bums. Yeah, he liked blokes. One bloke in particular. The one sitting next to him with his boot off. The one studying the toes of his right foot, wiggling them in sequence, frowning, and then doing it again.

"Ron," he whispered loudly, moving next to the redhead.

Ron looked up, his face a mask of concentration. "I'm not making them do that," he replied evenly, indicating his wiggling toes with a nod. "That's them moving, all on their own."

Harry held up a finger to his lips. "Shhhhhh! They'll hear!"

Ron snorted. "Bah. They do this all the time at home. They don't care if anyone sees them. Except Mum. And Dad. And Ginny." He wiggled his toes again. "See? I didn't do that."

Harry pause a moment, confused.

"Yeah, it's cool, Harry," George gasped.

"Right," Fred added, diving back into their kiss.

"They like it when someone watches," Ron added absently. He prodded his big toe hesitantly. "As long as they don't want me to join them, it's fine."

"Fine," Harry repeated, grinning widely.

He pressed next to Ron, watching as his friend pulled off his other boot and sock.

He was now wiggling the toes of both feet in sequence. The sight was oddly mesmerizing.

Harry leaned in closer, his left arm moving behind Ron's back.

Ron made no comment when Harry leaned his chin on Ron's shoulder. Harry carefully pressed his left arm against Ron's back. The smooth, cottony veil had lifted. He could see everything in perfect clarity. Ron's big, freckled hands were now rubbing his feet, pressing and poking them; and Ron smelled fresh and clean. Harry turned his head, breathing in the soothing scent of the brindle soap shampoo Ron used on his hair.

His heart was pounding in a furious rhythm, and he could feel the surges of blood in his veins, the throbbing of it in his engorged cock. He tingled all over, his senses suddenly fire bright. He slowly brought his other hand over, gently, carefully, placing it on Ron's knee. Harry sighed at the contact, the feeling of the warm denim under his fingers. The knowledge that so much wonderful, smooth skin waited beneath those jeans was almost too much to bear.

He'd always allowed himself a few hungry stares at Fred and George in the showers. He blatantly avoided looking at Ron at all. It was amazing how he managed to do it all these years. To him, Ron in the shower was only a floating head. He'd caught accidental glimpses of Ron, of course, but it was manageable to sport a raging stiffy under your robe or quilts. It was quite another matter when one was starkers in the locker room after Quidditch practice.

Harry was barely aware of the moans and sighs of pleasure from the other side of the clearing. He was totally focused on Ron. He slowly moved his hand down Ron's leg, his breath quickening, his fingers tingling as he moved them down and inside Ron's thigh. He pressed closer, nuzzling his cheek into Ron's shoulder. His hand had reached the top of Ron's leg, resting against the redhead's jean-clad bulge. He nearly swooned as he realized that Ron was hard as well. He snapped his head up, his surprised stare met with a crooked smile. Ron's eyes were wide and bright. And very blue.

The most beautiful blue Harry had ever seen.

"I think I'm stoned," Ron murmured.

"Yeah, me too," Harry replied. Thankfully, control of his lips seemed to have been returned to him. Which was a very good thing, as he had immediate plans for them.

"Harry?" Ron asked softly.

"Shut it, you big git," Harry answered breathlessly.

He moved in, drawing his body tightly against his friend. One hand curled around Ron's hip while the other boldly massaged Ron's arousal. He felt as if bolts of electricity were shooting through him, every sensation of contact with Ron another level of pleasure. He'd never thought it would feel like this. How could he ever live without it now? He never wanted to be apart from Ron again. He hesitantly leaned in, his lips warm, hungry. Ron's lips were slightly parted, his eyes half-closed.

Harry made to press their lips together; instead, they bumped noses, both mumbling 'Sorry' in unison. Harry tilted his head to one side, and so did Ron. In the same direction. Harry cocked his head the other way. So did Ron. Harry chuckled as Ron quickly moved in, shifting his head to the correct position. Their lips finally touched, softly at first, then more and more firmly. Harry sighed as the tip of Ron's tongue pressed into his mouth. He returned the gesture as Ron opened his mouth wide. Harry did the same, and their tongues happily explored each other, their teeth bumping and clacking. Ron actually nipped the tip of his tongue, but Harry didn't care.

It felt too fine.

Brilliantly fine!

Ron's hand reached up and touched the side of his face. The feeling of that large, calloused hand stroking his cheek ignited a new level to his passion.

My god, how much better could this possibly feel?

His hand clumsily fumbled with Ron's jeans, attempting to rip them open. Ron's other hand moved in to assist, and a second later, Harry's hand was thrusting down inside the red head's underpants. When his fingers contacted the smooth, hard head of Ron's cock, he gasped. Ron did as well. He felt the wetness there, using his thumb to spread it about slowly.

Ron moaned, his hand dropping from his cheek to scrabble at the fly of Harry's jeans.

An instant later, he felt Ron's hand curl about his own hard length, firmly squeezing and pulling on it in a slow, even rhythm. He sucked in air, and Ron filled him. It was heavenly. They were both stroking each other now, their ministrations hindered by their clothes and their awkward sitting positions.

Ron pulled away from their kiss, rising to his knees and pulling off his t-shirt. He reached over, carefully lifting Harry's own shirt up.

Harry pulled off his glasses as Ron removed the shirt and tossed it next to his own. Ron put out his hand to take the glasses, but he shook his head, sliding them back into place. He'd waited his entire life for this, and he'd be damned if he was going to see it all as a blur. Ron grinned, his face flushed.

Harry stared at his friend, taking in the smoothness of Ron's lean chest. He wasn't muscled like Fred and George. But he was nicely proportioned, and to him, drop dead gorgeous. He rose up to his knees, tracing his hand down the middle of Ron's torso.

Ron reached over, gently placing both hands on Harry's shoulders. He leaned in. Harry was ready this time.
This kiss was even better than the first. Ron tasted so wonderful. He could never get enough of this. How he would get through a day, or an hour, without his hands or lips on Ron, he didn't know. He brought his hands up, caressing Ron's sides, running his fingers over Ron's hips. He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of Ron's jeans, pushing them down. They pulled Ron's underwear down with them, releasing his cock. Harry broke their kiss, looking down as Ron's rather large, thick member bobbed invitingly. He throttled it with both hands as Ron nuzzled his cheek.

Ron then pushed Harry's jeans and y-fronts down, wrapping his rough fingers around Harry's throbbing prick.

They both gasped, their breath quickly becoming ragged.

Harry knew he was about to come. Reaching up with one hand, he pulled Ron into a clumsy embrace, mashing their lips together while his other hand stroked Ron's cock faster and faster.

Ron did the same: one hand around Harry's hip and bum, the other grasping his dick. They pressed together, the sweaty surfaces of their chests and stomachs touching and sliding, Ron pumping his cock into Harry's hand.

Harry slowly pressed his hips into Ron, grinding against the red head with increasing fervour. The next instant, there was an incredibly warm, wonderfully smooth sensation spreading about his dick and groin. He moaned at the sudden slickness.

Ron yelped in pleasure, his large hand taking both of their cocks, sliding them together and stroking them both off at the same time.

Harry threw both arms around Ron, burying his chin in Ron's chest. The sensation was nearly overwhelming. Ron pumped their dicks furiously. With a loud yell, Harry stopped breathing, his back arching, his fingernails digging into Ron's back. He came, his load erupting from him as never before. Ron quickly moved his hand to the top of Harry's cock, catching most of the release and smearing it all over both of their dicks. Harry found that he could barely breathe, Ron's ministrations to his recently spent prick almost causing him to pass out. Ron was teasing the tip of his hyper-sensitive member, sending him into a spasm of ecstasy with each casual flick of his finger. He very nearly cried out for him to stop when Ron suddenly jerked still.

With a harsh intake of breath, Ron came, his thick release coating both their bellies. He moaned loudly, his body relaxing against Harry's.

Harry began breathing again, slowly thrusting his now flagging dick against Ron's.

The redhead jerked and bucked, finally opening his eyes and grinning. Breathless, he leaned his cheek on the top of Harry's head.

"Wow," he managed to rasp out.

Harry nodded, holding Ron tightly. "At least," he agreed.

They hugged for a moment longer, until they became aware of the low chuckles coming from the other side of the clearing. Harry and Ron looked up at the same time.

The twins were both lying on their sides, still naked. Fred's back was pressed against George's chest and stomach. Fred's head was over his outstretched arm; George's was propped up on an elbow, his cheek resting in his palm. His other arm was draped over Fred's torso. Both were smiling from ear to ear, looking right pleased with themselves.

"Way to go, little bro," George said with a chuckle. "We didn't think you had it in you."

"Well, he hasn't yet, really," Fred added with an evil smirk.

"Won't be long, though, Fred."

"Right there, George."

"Brilliant!" they chorused brightly.

Harry and Ron stared at the twins, then each other, and back again. They reached for their jeans simultaneously, struggling to pull them up. Ron tipped over, falling to the ground in a tangled, cursing heap.

"Bloody prats! Why can't I have normal brothers?" he fumed, scrambling to his feet and yanking his jeans up.

The twins laughed.

So did Harry.

Ron stared at him.

"What? You mean you didn't mind those two perverts staring at us while we...while we..."

"Had sex?" Harry finished for him. "Actually, no. I sort of liked watching them. I don't mind if they watch us."

Ron scrunched up his face. "Really? Blimey, Harry, I'd have never thought..."

"Oh give it a rest, little, bro," Fred interrupted.

"Really," George added. "Methinks he doth protest too much, eh?"

"So how do you two feel?" Fred asked, his eyes wide.

"Fine," Harry replied, looking to Ron.

"I'm okay, I guess."

"No side effects?" George prodded. "Headache? Nausea? Dry mouth?"

Harry and Ron both shook their heads.

"I'd say the test was a success, Fred. The enhancements worked perfectly."

"I'd agree, George."

"And it finally got these two together," Fred sighed.

"About time," George nodded in response, rolling his eyes.

"Perfect!" they said in unison.

Ron huffed, planting his hands on his hips. Harry simply sniggered.

George leaned down, kissing the top of Fred's head.

"Fred? Our newbies could do with a bit of a clean up."

Fred murmured an incantation, instantly cleaning away the sticky spunk.

Ron still glared at his brothers, leaning down to pick up his shirt.

Harry grinned.

"That was you then, when we were near the end there. You..."

George winked. "Standard Lubricatus Charm. Don't worry; we'll teach you. Right handy, that one is."

Ron tossed him his shirt.

"Are you okay, Harry?"

"Yeah, Ron. I'm fine," he replied with a wide grin. "Totally, completely fine!"


~~fin~~