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The Twelve Days of Smutmas	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 14927 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Summary: “George,” Fred said with an exaggerated gasp, “do you see what I see?” he looked up towards the ceiling, and George looked up and mirrored his twin's look of childlike awe.

“I do Fred!” George replied in the same tone of voice, “well, isn't that a coincidence!”

“What d'you—oh,” Harry stuttered to a stop when he looked up, and a single thought came to the surface of his mind: uh oh.

A/N: In case you missed the tag, or the pairing wasn't enough to make it clear: This fic contains twincest. If you're not into that, definitely pass this one by.
Mistletoe

Harry was certain that he'd never get used to the absolute insanity that was The Burrow on Christmas Eve.

Everywhere Harry looked there were people, from Molly commanding troops of helpers in the kitchen (in this case, Fleur, Ginny, and an overenthusiastic Teddy); to groups of people in the sitting room drinking, eating, and playing games; and outside a handful of the elder Weasley grandchildren were engaging in an all-out snow war.

After the abysmal Christmases of Harry's childhood, it was always nice to show up at a house where people would not flinch, sneer, or recoil at the sight of him, but instead welcome his presence. After his recent announcement to his friends that he batted for the other team, Harry had been concerned that some might not approve of it, but it seemed as though homosexuality was not as taboo a subject as it was in the muggle world, and no one batted an eyelash.

Harry was seated between Ron and Hermione (with little baby Rose asleep in Ron's lap) and had been snacking on an endless stream of treacle tarts while they chatted. It was still somewhat difficult to comprehend that the war was over, and Harry had spent the last few years drifting, especially after he decided spending his adult life chasing dark wizards was not his calling after all.

Unfortunately, the ever-helpful Hermione had taken this as an opening to advise him on career ideas, and pelleted him with owl after owl of pamphlets and friendly advice, until Harry eventually had to turn away her owls when his 'knock it off' responses were ignored.

Harry had a feeling that Ron had eventually talked to her, because not long afterward she stopped mentioning career paths altogether, and any time they skirted close to the topic it was usually Ron that steered them away from it again. Luckily, his inheritance meant that, if he wanted, he could just not work, but being a gentleman of leisure just didn't have the same appeal as it did when he was nineteen, and at twenty-four, he was beginning to toy with career ideas again, though so far he'd come up empty-handed, and decided to put his major life decisions on hold—at least until the holidays were over.

It had taken Harry several moment to realize he'd zoned out, and when he shook himself back to the present he had the strangest feeling that he was being watched.

Harry looked around, and found that from across the room the twins were eyeing him with a mischievous glint in their eyes that did not sit particularly well with Harry. The look usually led to someone sprouting feathers or turning into a giant blueberry.

They did nothing prank-worthy though, merely nodded at him, then went back to their game of Exploding Snap.

“Er, okay,” Harry mumbled, eyeing them quizzically for a moment longer, then turned back to his friends.

The trouble was, the twins seemed to have zeroed in on him for some reason, and Harry caught them staring at him a number of times throughout the evening.

“Did the twins slip something into my drink, am I gonna turn purple or something?” Harry eventually muttered quietly to Ron, and he stared at Harry in confusion.

“Not that I know of, why?”

“They keep staring at me! It's getting a little unnerving,” Harry hissed at him, and Ron's gaze flicked to his brothers, then back to Harry.

“I dunno, gay solidarity?”

“How d'you mean?”

“Well, the twins are gay, aren't they? So you told everyone—”

“—I told you,” Harry cut in, “and you blurted it out on my behalf.”

“Same difference,” Ron said with a grin, then paused to hand Rose to Hermione, who had begun to fuss, and Harry looked away when she pulled a blanket over the top half of herself to feed her. “Anyway, maybe it's just like...recognition or something? I dunno there's always something going on with those two, so maybe they did slip something in your drink.”

“You're a real comfort,” Harry said sarcastically, and Ron grinned.

“Harry I think you're reading too much into it,” Hermione chimed in, frowning at the pair of them, “you just came out of the closet, it's a pretty big deal, I'm sure the twins are just trying to be supportive.”

“Yeah but do you remember their way of trying to console Ginny in our second year, by covering themselves in boils and jumping out at her and things?” Harry asked, and Hermione shook her head a little.

“I'm sure they're a bit more mature now, Harry,” she said patiently, and Harry snorted at her statement.

“Don't bet on it.”

Though Harry always enjoyed spending time with the Weasleys, he couldn't help but feel as though he was on the edge of the festivities. It certainly didn't help that as the night wore on and Molly consumed perhaps a little too much wine, and spent at least thirty minutes lamenting on how it was such a shame that things hadn't worked out between him and her daughter. Eventually Harry excused himself politely and slunk off to the loo, revelling in the quiet for as long as he dared before going to rejoin the others.

Except...

“Hey Harry,” a voice said the moment he'd stepped out, and Harry caught sight of Fred and George blocking the stairwell.

“Er, hi guys,” Harry replied, raising his eyebrows in silent question.

“Mum was worried you'd fallen in—” said Fred.

“—So gracious hosts that we are, we volunteered to come check on you,” said George, while he exchanged a grin with his brother. Harry swallowed nervously; somehow, he wasn't exactly comforted by their tone.

“How kind,” Harry replied, unable to keep a note of sarcasm from his voice, “I'm touched, really.”

“Shall we escort our esteemed guest back to the party, George?” Fred asked in a tone of voice that was so similar to Percy that Harry couldn't help but snort a laugh.

“It'd only be polite Fred,” George replied in the same tone of voice, and they stood on either side of Harry, draping their arms over his shoulders as they escorted him towards the stairs, but suddenly jerked to a stop.

“George,” Fred said with an exaggerated gasp, “do you see what I see?” he looked up towards the ceiling, and George looked up and mirrored his twin's look of childlike awe.

“I do Fred!” George replied in the same tone of voice, “well, isn't that a coincidence!”

“What d'you—oh,” Harry stuttered to a stop when he looked up, and a single thought came to the surface of his mind: uh oh.

Dangling innocently from the ceiling was a sprig of mistletoe.

Fred's hand slid down Harry's spine, so gently that the sensation made him jump. Harry whipped around to Fred, eyes wide, and he found himself mildly unnerved by the softening of his features that he saw there. He was distracted however when George's hand went lower still, and squeezed his bum.

Harry jumped and whirled his attention to the other twin, his eyes still very wide with surprise and alarm.

“Why Harry,” said George, “don't you know the tradition?”

“Tradition?” Harry squeaked, his face going very red as the twins did not remove their hands, but he couldn't deny that it wasn't an awful sensation—albeit a surprising one.

“Yes,” replied Fred.

“If you catch someone under the mistletoe—” said George.

“—You have to kiss them,” finished Fred, and they both grinned when Harry's flush deepened further still.

“Oh,” Harry said, “that.” He looked between the two redheads, but their expressions didn't change. “Well, er, which one—I mean, do you really wanna...?” Harry's voice failed him, and Fred's free hand moved to brush Harry's cheek, as he coaxed his gaze back to him.

Before Harry had a chance to ask, lips were covering his own in a deep, heated kiss. This was a far cry from the pecks he'd shared with Cho or Ginny, and he felt warmth pool in his belly as Fred tugged Harry out of his brother's grasp. Harry's mind went numb as he was swept away by the sensation of Fred's hands all over him, and before he could think better of it, a low groan escaped him.

When at last Fred broke the kiss, Harry had barely a second for what had happened to sink in before another pair of arms took hold of him, spun him on the spot and kissed him.

Where Fred was slow and sensual, George was rough and demanding. Harry generally hated the term kissed breathless, but there was simply no other phrase that could really describe the sensation of George's mouth on his. Harry felt his jeans growing uncomfortably tight in response to the hot kisses the twins were gifting him with, and he groaned again, reaching up tentatively to grab fistfuls of the ginger's Christmas jumper.

“Wow,” Harry breathed when he finally pulled back, and the pair grinned at him. His foggy mind was slowly clearing, and Harry glanced towards the stairwell and the muffled sounds of the ongoing festivities below. “I—I guess I'd better...” Harry moved to extricate himself from his position between them (when had Fred sandwiched himself on Harry's other side?), but they both tightened their hold. It was not exactly restrictive, but it was enough to draw Harry's attention back to them.

“Go?” Fred asked innocently.

“In this state?” George added. Fred reached down to cup Harry's erection and gave it a small squeeze. Harry gasped sharply and his hips jerked forward involuntarily into Fred's hand.

“But...the others...” Harry said, his mind torn between how good it felt, being squished between two warm bodies, and how mortified he'd be if someone (Ron or Molly in particular) were to catch them.

“Haven't even noticed you'd gone,” George filled in while he leant in to trail wet kisses from the hollow of Harry's throat to his mouth, and Fred continued to massage at Harry's tented jeans lazily, just enough to keep his arousal from dimming.

“C'mon Harry,” Fred murmured as he lowered his mouth to the back of Harry's neck, licking and kissing the patch of skin he found there, “we'll make it so good for you, you won't be walking straight for days.”

Harry moaned at the imagery, turning from George's heady kisses to try and look at Fred, his face still flushed, but now for an entirely different reason.

“C'mon Harry,” George said, repeating Fred's words from earlier, “let us give you a Christmas Eve that you'll never forget.”

“With an invitation like that, how can I refuse?” Harry asked, his brain shutting down entirely as he kissed each of the twins, then followed them up to their bedroom.

Sandwiched between Fred and George, Harry was led into their room, and with a quick flick of George's wand he pushed the beds together and rearranged the blankets to create one large, square bed. Seeing the move somehow made what Harry was agreeing to more real, and despite his arousal, he swallowed nervously.

“Nervous?” Fred asked sweetly.

“A little,” Harry answered as he turned to him, “it's not like I've ever done anything this mental before.”

“We'll make it good for you, won't we George?” Fred asked.

“Of course,” George answered, “what sort of hosts would we be if we didn't show our guest a good time?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer, and a second later he realized that the question was likely rhetorical, because just as suddenly Fred's tongue was in his mouth.

Behind him, George grabbed hold of the hem of Harry's T-shirt and jumper, and peeled both garments off at the same time, the action causing his kiss with Fred to break as they were pulled over his head and tossed carelessly aside. Harry groaned as he felt George's hands on his hips and Fred's on his shoulders, and at the same time Harry began to work at peeling off Fred's horrifically gaudy Christmas jumper while George's hot mouth trailed slowly down his spine, licking and kissing the column of bone with practised touches.

“Oh God...” Harry moaned as Fred's mouth abandoned his and trailed down his front, his teeth closing lightly over his left nipple before he took it into his mouth, suckling gently, while behind him he heard George at least partially disrobe as the rustle of another article of clothing hit the floor near Harry's feet.

Two sets of fingers curled into the waistband of Harry's jeans and the elastic of his pants, and they pulled both garments down in one smooth motion. Harry barely had time to fathom the strangeness of being starkers in front of Fred and George before their tag-teaming reduced him to a gibbering pile of jelly as Harry stepped out of and kicked away the garments, then gasped sharply as Fred's mouth closed over the head of his cock, while a cleansing charm shot through him, and just as suddenly, he felt a tongue trail down his tailbone, between his cheeks, and dip into his arse.

Harry marvelled at the fact that his knees didn't immediately give out under their dual touch, while he reached down to grip Fred's shoulders to keep himself standing—just in case.

George's hands closed over his buttocks and massaged the muscle, spreading Harry's cheeks wider to burrow his tongue deeper into his hole. At the same time, Fred took more of Harry's cock into his mouth, and Harry's breath caught as he felt Fred's gag reflex convulse around him. Harry's head lolled back as he groaned, his body quivering as he was uncertain whether he wanted to back onto George's tongue, or thrust into Fred's mouth.

Both twins worked their mouths and tongues on Harry expertly, and it was not long before he reached orgasm. A string of Uncle Vernon's choice expletives escaped him as he came, his mumbled warnings to Fred were ignored as he milked Harry dry before they escorted Harry to the bed, where he collapsed, panting, onto the centre of the mattress.

“D'you think we broke him?” Fred asked as he lay down on Harry's left, at some point having lost his trousers, and his impressive hard-on was pressing into Harry's thigh.

“Just give him a minute brother dear,” George said, stretching out on Harry's opposite side, a second erection pressing into Harry's right thigh with eerie symmetry. “He'll be up and about in no time.”

“You two are gonna completely wear me out,” Harry mumbled, unable to keep a grin from his face as George reached over to pluck off his glasses and set them aside then kissed him, sucking Harry's bottom lip into his mouth for a brief moment, while Harry groaned softly, though he was still too exhausted for him to have anything resembling a physical reaction—yet.

“We have a couple potions that'll perk you right up if we manage that,” Fred replied, drawing Harry's attention away from his twin as he took his turn in kissing him, while a hand—Harry couldn't tell to whom it belonged—trailed down his front and began to gently fondle his cock.

Harry spent several long minutes trading kisses with the pair before he had recuperated enough to get hard again, and still Fred continued to idly stroke him as though he hadn't noticed.

“Fred and I have an idea for you Harry,” George murmured, his hand replacing Fred's on Harry's cock, while he ground his own erection into the side of Harry's thigh.

“Oh?” Harry asked struggling to focus through his haze of arousal, “What sort of idea?”

“Well it all depends on how elastic you are,” Fred added, reaching down to finger Harry's balls as he spoke, and Harry blinked a few times, uncertain what he meant.

“Elas—oh. Oh. You mean...both of you?” Harry asked, while he looked from one twin to the other, but neither of their expressions had changed. George leant in and licked his way up his throat, and gently closed his teeth around the edge of Harry's ear to give it a gentle tug.

“Think you're sweet arse could take us both?” George asked, and Harry's only answer was a feeble moan. He was no virgin, not by a longshot, but that was something he had yet to try.

“Only one way to find out,” Harry answered weakly, and he felt his stomach drop a little when both of his companions grinned wickedly. What have I gotten myself into? He wondered as Fred lifted his wand to summon a little jar from one of the night tables.

Fred opened the jar and dipped his fingers into the lubricant, while George coaxed Harry's thighs apart and eased him back into a better position to expose his winking entrance. Fred shifted to kneel in front of Harry's arse, then slid a single digit inside. Harry tilted his head back with a soft groan, while Fred quickly added a second finger in next to the first.

Fred scissored the two digits, thrusting them in and out of Harry's hole, then slipped in a third slowly, but without warning. Harry's breath hitched a little, given that it had been a while since he'd bottomed, but Fred was slow and cautious, and George drew Harry's attention from the faint twinge of pain with another of his toe-curling kisses, just as Fred added a fourth.

Harry groaned softly, Fred clearly doing his best to prepare Harry for what they had planned. When he deemed Harry adequately prepared, he slipped his fingers out of him took the lubricant again, and helped himself to a little before he handed it to his twin.

George mirrored Fred, then shifted to face his brother as they tangled their legs together and sat up fully to line up their cocks side-by-side. The intense look they gave each other made Harry wonder if they had an active (albeit somewhat illegal) relationship, but Harry quickly shook away the thought, deciding that he'd rather not know.

“C'mere Harry,” Fred said breathlessly, and Harry crawled over to sandwich himself between them, balancing himself on the balls of his feet while the twins' hands at his hips helped steady him as Harry slowly bore down on their cocks.

Despite all the preparation, it still hurt. Harry leant back against Fred's shoulder as he hissed in pain, and Fred wrapped an arm around Harry's waist to steady him. George leant forward to brush his lips across Harry's while Fred kissed his shoulder as he rode out the low burn.

Ever so slowly, it passed enough to enable Harry to move more comfortably, and he rocked in the twins' laps, fucking himself on their cocks.

“That's it Harry,” Fred breathed his praise as he kissed and licked at Harry's throat, and Harry let out a soft groan in response to the words and touch.

“Shift your weight here Harry,” George purred, and Harry followed his lead, adjusting his position ever so slightly, and he cried out as both cocks brushed his prostate, and had it not been for the two sets of hands holding him up, he would have certainly fallen. “Oh, God, yes Harry...”

The sensation was better than anything Harry could have imagined. He grunted and groaned in sync with his two lovers as they muttered praise at Harry as he moved, a choked cry escaping him every time Fred or George's cocks brushed against his prostate. He did not even bother to try and muffle his cries of pleasure, his arse stretched to full capacity with the delicious sensation of the two cocks in him, while his groans of pleasure were joined by Fred and George's own grunts and moans, holding tightly onto Harry to keep him from toppling over as he moved.

The dual sensation of Harry's clenching arse and the friction of cock-to-cock in his hole seemed to be the twins' undoing, and they came first, flooding Harry's arse with their seed while both their hands closed over Harry's cock, bringing him to orgasm a moment later.

The trio collapsed onto the bed, Harry still sandwiched between Fred and George, a silly grin on Harry's face as the pair snuggled closer to him and slowly pulled their softening pricks from Harry's spent arse. They each took a turn kissing Harry once before they settled down with him firmly squished between the pair.

“God, I love mistletoe,” Harry mumbled, and they both laughed.

-Fin
- 10
- 11
- 12
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The Twelve Days of Smutmas