Three Heads Are Better Than One | By : GeorgesParamour Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 5798 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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It’s not as bad as it sounds, I suppose. I’m not actually dying. I just feel an awful lot like it. How else could I feel? I spend all – literally all– my time with two of the most gorgeous men on the earth. And it’s just me and them, my two best friends. All the time… I’m getting redundant in my thoughts again. That always seems to happen when I start thinking about them. They’re nearly polar opposites and yet I love them both. I love every bit of them with every bit of me and I can only hope that I’ll have the chance to love them for the rest of time. I think of the day one of them will find someone to fall in love with, the day they’ll leave me behind, and I think I’m dying.
**
Some days I think I’m dying.
Really, I’m in good health. The food is a bit poor here lately, there’s not much for the taking and none of us are too good with the cooking… but I’m plenty healthy. Thing is, I’m spending all my time cooped up with two of the most bloody beautiful people on the planet and it’s making me nutters. What’s a bloke to do with himself when there’s hardly time for a decent wank and he can’t seem to get himself under control? No matter that there’s a bloody war going on. No matter that I – we – might actually die tonight, tomorrow, next week, whatever. What gets to me is that no matter where I look I see one of them and they’re doing something that makes me want to shag them twelve ways to Tuesday (and it’s now Wednesday) but I can’t! Because they’re my best friends and I couldn’t stand to lose them. So instead I walk around day after day with a stiffy and with all this sexual tension built up in me and I think I’m dying.
**
Some days I think I’m dying.
As bitter as the thought is, it’s not far from the truth. I have a pathetic list of things that are killing me. First there’s the Dark Lord who’s spent the past six years of my life breathing down my neck trying to be end of me. Then there’s the little gem that I’m supposed to save the whole freaking world at the age of seventeen – yeah, no pressure there, buddy. Then there’s the guilt of all the bad shite that’s happening that I can’t stop or control. And all the people that are getting hurt or killed in their attempts to aid my quest. And then there’s the fear. The fear that the next group of people to get hurt or killed are going to be my people. Losing any of the people close to me would eternally scar me… but thinking about losing the two people closest to me nearly stops my heart in that very second. Finally, and this seems to be the reason at the top of the list the past few days, no matter how terrifying the other options are, I can’t stop thinking about touching them. My best mates, that is. Imagining the contrast in the feel of their skin under mine. Wondering how much difference there is in her soft curves and his hard plains… but I know I could lose them forever should I ever become reckless enough to act on these thoughts. He’d probably beat me to my grave the moment my hand wandered into an ‘inappropriate’ region. Huh. Save Voldemort some trouble then, wouldn’t he? I think about how much their rejection would hurt, how I will never get the chance to touch them, to show them how I feel… and I think I’m dying.
**
I think I’m losing my mind.
We made a decent score tonight. Found a little town with an outdoor market. Got a good supply of food and was able to even snatch up a few bottles of wine. As the boys cooked (I usually burn all the food) I set up the living area for a celebration. Our last good meal was too long ago to remember properly. I Transfigured the old chairs into huge pillows, extended the coffee table so it became a dinner table who’s top was no more than two feet from the floor, conjured some candles, and placed out four jars containing bluebell fires. I was quite proud of my accomplishments, especially since it’s been so long since I got to properly study. They brought the food and drinks in. My mouth began to water, but it had little to do with what the boys were carrying and more to do with the boys themselves. The fire played off of their skin, accentuating the pale freckles on one and the small scar on the other. A minuscule gust of wind sneaked into the tent and unruly black hair waved in the breeze while long red hair was shaken back out of the other’s face. They were both tall, though one easily dominated the other. But both had broad shoulders, tapered waists, and wonderful, gorgeous, hands that made me go crazy just thinking about what all those fingers could do to my body… I think I’m losing my mind.
**
I think I’m losing my mind.
She had turned the living area into a bedroom with a table. To make matters worse she was half sprawled out across one of the cushions as we entered the room with dinner. I nearly dropped the platters I was carrying. And the look she gave us! All I can figure is that she was starving. Her eyes clearly said she was ready to take what she wanted until she was satisfied. I quickly offered her wine to prevent offering myself for the taking. I believe we all drank too much. After a while when I looked at her the candles seemed to make her hair dance. And him… his eyes always glow, but tonight they were almost unnatural. It took every ounce of self-control to keep myself on my pillow and not on top of him. Or her. Or both of them. Or myself. Bloody hell. I think I’m losing my mind!
**
I think I’m losing my mind.
When she tried to stand up to leave the room she lost her balance and landed sprawled in his lap. She climbed up his chest, sitting herself up right and tucked against him. I don’t know who moved first but they ended up lips together, tongues dueling, hands granted the permission to grope and roam. They looked so fucking beautiful together it brought tears to my eyes and then I realized that the tears might have just been from the pain of my heart ripping apart… but then she pulled from him and as their chests heaved, sucking in air, they reached for me together, pulling me to them. Their lips, one set so soft the other so demanding, battled to shower attention on me. It was a maddening experience. There were kisses and hands everywhere. Suddenly clothes were disappearing and every action was intensified. There was a desperation to every move any of us made. Like we all needed what was happening… when the realization finally dawned on us (the slow gits we are) that we did need it...we reinvented the concept of magic. I swear by the time we each were joined to the other two - sheathed in warmth, arms wrapped and holding, fingers intertwined, kisses never ending, rocking and thrusting together – we were glowing. By the time we all had climaxed we were floating. I didn’t know such a thing was possible. Good thing the cushions were there. She conjured blankets and lay in between us, he held my hand over her hip, as reality settled in I realized the consequences I could have to pay. Now I lay here and I think I’m losing my mind.
**
I think I’m going to live.
Bugger the Dark Lord and all his cronies. Bugger the horcruxes, they’ll be found in proper time. Bugger impending death and sorrow and all that bullshit that weighs us down. We’ve been together, if only just to hold each other, since that drunken night. I love them and they love me. We can feel it in each other even when we’re not touching, which isn’t often any more. Any excuse to touch is used. Sometimes we forego the excuse and just touch and it’s okay because it’s what we all need and what we all want and together we’re going to get through this. For the first time since we found out what we were in for I think I’m going to live.
**
I think I’m going to live.
Life is bloody fucking fantastic. My two best mates are my two best lovers. We can’t get enough of each other and it goes deeper than sex, which is top rate at that. I thought I was randy? These two are willing to go at it any time, any place, immediate-death-situations not withstanding. I’m more now than I ever was before. Always last place it seemed, always in someone’s shadow, in someone’s footsteps. Not this time. Now it’s just the three of us and they’re mine and I’m their’s. To say this is a new feeling is an understatement. I’m breathing in air sweeter and fresher than any that’s ever before reached my lungs. They give me everything I need. In this crazy, broken down world, they give me safety and love and for the first time since all this shite started, I think I’m going to live.
**
I think I’m going to live.
Once they held me, stroked my back, teased my hair, whispered their every intentions, I calmed down that first night and every moment since has been unrealistically good. I keep pinching myself, waiting to wake up from a dream. She fusses at me because my arm stays red from the pinches. He tells her it’s okay, a bit of a pinch won’t hurt anyone, and he understands a bit more than she does but this is rare so we all let it slide with a shake of our heads, each of us in a different thought. Then we all smile and laugh at one another and none of the rest of it carries weight anymore. I’ll kill Voldemort. I know that now. There’s no question left in me other than the exact how. But that will come in the moment. I know that, too, so I don’t worry about a lack of plan. They’ll be with me until the end. Our age doesn’t matter. We know now what some people never have the chance to know at a hundred years old. Age is a number. She taught me that. He and I agree. The guilt is harder to shake but it’s no longer just on me. They pull it out of me, help me carry the weight of it, and they do so while peppering me with kisses… they don’t allow me shame for sharing. We all hope our loved ones will make it. However, we don’t pretend that we won’t lose friends in the war. But we know we’ll have each other. We’ll make it through all of it together. And just as I know I will kill Voldemort, I know I don’t have to worry about losing them, either of them. They will be mine and I will be theirs and nothing will separate us except the end of time, which is a very long way off. For the first time in seventeen years, I want to live and I know I’m going to live.
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