The twins arrived by Floo while Harry was upstairs, greeting Snape with gentle new affection, warm embraces and kisses full of eager anticipation. They were enough to restore Snape's equilibrium, the promise of later helping him drive away the thoughts of inappropriate pederasty that had dogged him throughout the day. He'd started his day faced with Harry's morning erection, and things had never quite recovered -- Snape had constantly found himself allowing Harry liberties the boy never should have taken. That Harry never should have wanted to take, if Snape were to be brutally honest with himself.

In fact, Snape was still firmly held in George's arms when Harry came back downstairs, and he wondered that he could still feel that flash of resentment when Fred swung Harry into an enthusiastic hug. "How's our favourite little cherry?"

Harry made moue of distaste at the epithet, and Snape couldn't blame him. Still, Snape felt it was well worth it to see Fred's expression when Harry planted a kiss on his nose and said, "Saving that bit for Snape, thank you very much."

"That still leaves us a lot of other bits, anyway," said George with a shrug, releasing Snape to go and collect a kiss from Harry. Their affection was so natural, so guileless, it was hard for Snape to countenance this seething, painful jealousy, a possessiveness for things which were not yet even his.

"Are you joining us for dinner?" said Snape, instead of the hundred other things that came to mind, demands for things he had no right, no reason to claim.

"We brought some for everyone," said Fred with a grin, pointing to one stack of boxes he'd left sitting on the hearth. Their forgotten shopping was in another, slightly more battered-looking one. "Hope Indian's all right."

"Brilliant!" said Harry, wriggling out of George's arms to go and prod at the gently steaming containers.

"In the kitchen," Snape said sharply, wondering at Harry's enthusiasm for something so simple as cheap takeaway food. "Harry, why don't you set the places while we bring the food in?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry smartly, and Snape got the urge to deduct points, a punishment he was beginning to realise he'd have a hard time maintaining discipline without. He didn't suppose that Dumbledore would countenance spankings, nor did he think that Harry would find it a particularly difficult punishment to endure, but he allowed himself to entertain a momentary fantasy as he watched the boy's arse in those lovely grey trousers.

Fred and George slinked over to bracket Snape, one in front, one behind, both pressing prominent erections into suddenly sensitive flesh. "You're going mad, aren't you?" whispered Fred in his ear.

"He's very fuckable, isn't he?" murmured George, one hand trailing down over Snape's chest to catch at a nipple.

"Good thing we're here to take the edge off," added Fred, snaking a hand around to stroke him through his trousers.

"Indeed," said Snape, more of a gasp than the usual sarcastic drawl. His hips pressed involuntarily into Fred's hand, and he whimpered when the fingers teased along his length.

"Soon," said George, kissing him lightly and then stepping away. Fred lingered a moment longer, nibbling at the tender skin behind his ear and letting him regain his balance before stepping back.

Snape took a few deep breaths and adjusted his clothing in a futile attempt to hide his erection. "Dinner," he said shortly, sweeping out of the room with flushed cheeks and, for once, eager anticipation of the near future.

The meal progressed with surprisingly few hitches, easy conversation flowing between them, even Harry managing to have opinions when they discussed Fred and George's research into new trick sweets, although not as much on the process of creating them as the desired results. Snape managed to convince his body that it would have to wait, age and experience aiding him in the fight against three affectionate, attractive young men who all seemed determined to insert innuendo into the most innocent of topics.

In the end, his prick settled on uncomfortably half-hard, though all his work was undone when dinner was over and the twins kissed Harry goodnight, strong arms surrounding him in way that suggested they might have done just that, with less clothing, the night before. Snape just watched, cock achingly hard, as they pushed Harry into a state of perfect surrender, just with lips and tongues and hands over clothing. His mouth went dry as he witnessed the transition, Harry laughing and joking with them, then simply melting, going boneless and open in their arms.

"Beautiful," Snape murmured as Harry's eyes fluttered shut, his arms looped around Fred's neck, body cradled against George's strong chest.

Harry's eyes flew open, his gaze riveted on their audience as he flushed bright red. "Ohgod, I'm so sorry, I..." he stammered, body going tense.

"It's all right, Harry," said Snape, walking over to them. "It's good that I've seen... well, it will help me to better understand what needs to be done to keep you safe," he said almost gently. He knew this state intimately, the horrifying embarrassment that set in after you came down from that place where everything felt perfect, and Harry... well, a bit of snogging and fondling in front of someone who oughtn't be watching was nothing compared to some of the things Snape had been coaxed into doing.

Harry dropped his eyes, and the twins looked chagrined. "We're sorry," said Fred quietly.

"We should have known better," said George just as softly. They waited for Harry to straighten up before stepping away, and he swayed slightly at the loss of their support.

"It's all right," said Harry in a small voice. "He's right, he ought to know just how..."

"How much you are now like I once was," finished Snape in that same gentle tone. "Never fear that I will judge you harshly for this, Harry. Ruining potions, yes, but not this."

Harry managed a weak chuckle at that, and the moment faded. Fred dropped a kiss on top of Harry's messy head, and George gave his cheek a last nuzzle before turning his attention entirely on Snape. "Well, I think we've got," George began.

"Some unfinished business," said Fred with a lascivious grin.

"I'll go lock myself in my room and w-wank, shall I?" said Harry, almost managing a light, humorous tone.

Fred and George exercised a remarkable sensitivity, a trait that Snape was just beginning to realise they'd possessed all along, and pretended he'd managed it, giving him a gentle shove toward the stairs. "Don't pull it off," called Fred.

"We've got uses for it tomorrow!" George yelled after his swiftly retreating figure. They waited for the sound of Harry's footsteps to fade into silence before turning as one to him. "Now," said George, his tone positively predatory.

"Where were we?" asked Fred, grin widening.

Snape crossed his arms over his chest and said, in as cold a tone as he could muster with his cock throbbing hotly between his legs, "I believe you were about to attempt to make up for nearly seven years of misbehaviour and misguided attempts at humour?"

George laughed, and Fred's grin went positively wicked. "It's a start, anyway," said Fred.

"But I'm fairly sure we'll have miles to go," said George, moving towards Snape in a slow, feline stalk.

"Before we sleep," Fred completed the saying, following his brother. They circled Snape like sharks, then swooped in just as he was starting to grow nervous again, one of them capturing his lips and the other cradling him from behind, no confusion at all between them as to who was going to do what, just surprisingly gentle hands working at the fastenings of his clothing as George, he was fairly sure it was George, kissed him nearly into the same state they'd had Harry only minutes before.

"Upstairs," Snape managed to gasp out, holding onto his hard-won control by a mere thread. It was frayed and weakened by the trust and affection these two warm young men brought out in him, emotions that were as unfamiliar as the heat blooming in his chest and pooling in his groin.

"Right," murmured George against his lips.

"Wouldn't want," said Fred, nibbling at his ear, "Ickle Harry to come down for a snack." He'd almost got all of Snape's shirt buttons undone, and Snape gasped when his fingers snuck inside to pinch a nipple.

"And catch his professor naked," said George, kissing his way up Snape's jaw, his lips travelling toward the ear his brother was gently tugging on with his teeth. Snape gasped again when they didn't stop, instead meeting for a kiss just as hot as the one they'd bestowed on Snape.

"Now," Snape rasped, hips thrusting involuntarily forward to rub his aching prick over George's answering hardness.

It was Fred's turn to break the kiss and say, "Right," nipping at George's lower lip before stepping back and pulling Snape with him. They backed toward the stairs still pressed together in their embrace, but they had to break apart to climb.

Knowing there was a big, soft bed waiting for them was enough to motivate Snape to slip out from between them and take the stairs three at a time. "Hurry," he said, smirking down from the landing.

Apparently his eagerness was all they needed to motivate them, as they scrambled upstairs after him. He led them on a merry chase up another flight of stairs and down the corridor to his room, mindful of the potential for Harry seeing him like this and ruining his status as an authority figure forever. It had just been so very long since he had someone with whom he could be free, even playful, let alone two lovers who respected him and were not, for once in his life, using his own nature against him.

They made it into Snape's room unseen, and he found himself flattened against the door by an amorous Fred while George made quick work of both twins' clothing. Snape let himself get lost in the kiss this time, relinquishing his ironclad self-control and knowing that, for perhaps the first time, he could trust the men in whose hands he'd placed himself. He'd originally planned on forcing himself to stay lucid tonight, but seeing the way they'd handled Harry had made him crave that freedom for himself.

"God, you're perfect," murmured a voice, Fred's he thought although he wasn't sure because of the desire roughening the edges of it, changing the timbre to something that made his prick twitch. Snape realised he'd been stripped naked while he was woolgathering, and felt himself blushing as the twins admired his spare frame.

"I'm not much to look at," Snape murmured, cheeks flushing and eyes on the floor as they led him to his own bed, George turning back the covers as Fred helped him into it.

A warm, affectionate kiss from Fred silenced any further protests as George murmured in his ear, "Let us be the judge of that."

They laid him out on his back, both his hands held overhead in one of Fred's large, square ones, Fred's lips keeping him breathless while George's mouth worked down the front of his body, making him boneless as well. "Want to make love to you," whispered Fred into Snape's gasping mouth, just as George's clever teeth found a nipple and tugged.

"Yes, yes, anything, please!" Snape babbled as Fred sucked on his Adam's apple, and George's wicked tongue found his navel and dipped inside. "Please!" he said again, arching up off the bed when George began to fuck his sensitive belly button with his tongue.

"I think he wants us, George," said Fred, the words vibrating against Snape's throat.

George looked up at them from his vantage and grinned, giving Snape's fluttering stomach one last lick. "I do believe you're right, Fred," replied George, who then made Snape cry out by rubbing one smooth-shaven cheek against his cock.

"Yes, want you," Snape agreed mindlessly, a small part of him noting that, unlike nearly every other lover he'd had, they completely ignored his offer of 'anything' in favour of simply doing. He melted a bit more at that, spreading his legs more than willingly when George nudged them gently, bending his knees and offering himself with a wanton tilt of his hips.

Instead of the wry chuckle he'd expect to get after throwing away the last of his dignity, Snape saw George's face soften, desire tinged with something else. Something which told Snape that he understood and appreciated the gift he was being given. "You're perfect, pet," said George, and Fred sat up and swept his eyes down Snape's body to meet George's slightly stunned gaze.

"More than we deserve," Fred whispered, placing a soft kiss on Snape's sweating brow. "Promise you, swear we'll care for you, pet," he said fiercely, seeing the flash of something like panic that crossed Snape's eyes briefly at his choice of words.

Snape cringed inwardly and nodded, hating that his psyche was so full of these land mines, words and actions that triggered other, far less pleasant memories. He was distracted from his self-recrimination when George picked up one of his elegant feet and said, "Promise," then began nibbling at the sensitive arch.

Snape moaned into Fred's mouth as he was kissed again, George's lips and teeth doing obscenely wonderful things to his foot while Fred's free hand plucked and pinched at his nipples. It had been so long since anyone but him had touched his body at all, let alone with such attention to his pleasure and so little to their own. Even the hand holding his firmly to the pillows was a comfort, that small bit of safety that absolved him of responsibility for what they were doing to him, and the joy he got from it.

George began to let his fingers wander, smoothing his palm up the back of Snape's calf and caressing the back of his knee in a manner that didn't quite manage to tickle, but brought to life all the neglected nerves under the delicate skin. He shivered as they crept higher, while his big toe was engulfed in a hot mouth that proceeded to suck on it like it was a tiny cock, the appendage seemingly connected straight to his needy prick, making it twitch and leak.

Fred's fingers began to twist and pinch harder, testing the limits of his pleasure and trying to see where they crossed over into pain. Snape couldn't find the breath to explain to them that very little could make that leap for him when he was like this, and virtually nothing they could do to his nipples would qualify. He'd once spent a night with two elegant spirals of needles pierced through his nipples, drawing them away from his body to stand out like some sort of strange art, and not a word of protest had left his lips until they were removed at the end.

Everything Fred was doing felt like pure pleasure compared to that. Not that he could really protest anyway, with Fred's tongue stroking over his own, Fred's lips sealed to his in a silent message of desire and need.

Snape arched again when George's questing fingers slid up his thigh to cradle his balls, the touch surprisingly tender for such big, strong hands. This was the first time they'd really touched him so intimately, and the gentle rolling of his balls in George's palm was, he thought, some kind of metaphor for how they were treating him, like something precious, a source of pleasure that could easily be broken to pain with a careless word or touch.

Then a curious finger brushed over his entrance, and all thoughts of things like metaphor and pain left him entirely as he moaned into Fred's kiss and spread himself wider. All the other touches aside, this was what he really wanted, to be opened up and fucked, to have one or both of their substantial cocks inside his body, taking him, using him.

Fred's words floated across his mind even as George's mouth began to work its way up the path his fingers had taken, pausing to suck an anklebone and set another low moan rumbling through Snape's chest. They wanted to make love to him.

"Yes," Snape murmured the next time Fred released him long enough to gasp out the word. "Want that," he added, tilting his hips to open himself to George, to both of them.

"So eager," George whispered, breath hot against the back of Snape's knee.

Fred echoed his sentiment, murmuring into Snape's ear, "So wanton."

"Never thought you'd be this good," said George, biting his way gently up Snape's inner thighs, alternating one and then the other, teeth sinking in just enough to leave a trail of pink circles in their wake.

Fred caught his brother's eye and smiled, one of those moments of private communication that used to drive Snape batty in class. "Or we'd have tried harder before," said Fred, stretching down so that he could nibble at Snape's chest, biting one of his nipples sharply and drawing a whimper from Snape.

"Wouldn't," Snape gasped out, "wouldn't have trusted you, before." He might have tried to explain, but George's hand abandoned its post to slide up the back of his thigh, its partner going up the other leg, until Snape's knees were pulled up to his chest and George was quite happily faced with his exposed entrance.

Fred bit down on his nipple harder, much harder, and Snape arched nearly up off the bed with a hoarse cry, his cock twitching and letting out a tiny jet of precome. He wanted this so badly, and they were giving it to him unreservedly, bestowing each bit of affection with a care that belied their usual cavalier attitude. Fred shifted his hand so that his fingers twined with Snape's, and that tiny bit of comfort wrenched something like a sob from Snape's throat.

Snape saw the twins' gazes meet again and let his own eyes flutter closed, that final surrender to the sensations they were giving his body. Fred's lips covered Snape's again in another possessive kiss, and George's mouth descended, not to any of the places Snape so desperately wanted but instead to tease at the crease of hip and thigh, sliding his tongue along the sensitive flesh there, cheek brushing tantalizingly against Snape's balls and cock while he licked.

"Please," said Snape, not sure what he was asking for but knowing he'd beg much more humiliatingly if they kept teasing him like this.

"Soon, pet," murmured Fred, then he took Snape's lower lip between his own and sucked on it, scraping it with sharp teeth.

George lifted his mouth away and blew a hot puff of air over Snape's entrance, "We just want to make it last," George said, then licked a stripe from Snape's tailbone to the base of his cock.

Snape moaned and writhed, not struggling against the restraining hands so much as reminding himself they were there, holding him down, keeping him safe. He tried to offer himself more, spread wider, do something, but George's grip was too strong, intentions too sure. George dipped his head down again, tracing patterns on Snape's balls with the tip of his tongue, then taking one into his mouth.

Fred swallowed the moan that resulted, his tongue tangling with Snape's, even the warm puff of breath from his nostrils tickling over Snape's cheek, feeling like some sort of caress. He opened and closed his fingers around Fred's hand, and the other went back to petting him in long, gentle strokes from neck to hip and back again, pausing whenever he twitched to explore those places that got the best reactions.

A part of Snape felt as though he should be doing something, reciprocating in some way other than responding to Fred's kisses, but they'd taken that ability away from him and all he could do was lie there and accept the pleasure they chose to bestow upon him. And moan, which he did again as George managed to get both of his balls in that wide mouth, laving them with wet licks. "Love the sounds you make," Fred whispered, then began to kiss his face, raining tiny pecks over his cheeks and chin, forehead and nose and even eyelids.

Snape whimpered.

George release his balls with an obscene sound, then lapped at them like a cat until they were shiny and aching for release. His mouth moved downward, then, and Snape whimpered again, hardly daring to hope for what was so obviously going to come next. Few of his lovers had wanted to so debase themselves, but oh George had the most wicked mouth and no fear at all of putting it wherever it pleased him. It certainly pleased Snape, wrenching a cry from his lips as that talented tongue flicked over his entrance.

"Tastes good," said George, the words tingling over Snape's sensitized flesh. They were followed by George's tongue, licking in broad strokes this time, over and over until Snape wrenched his face away from Fred's.

"Please, please, need you, please, anything, you can do anything, just take me, please, please!" Snape begged, truly struggling this time not to get away but just to get more.

Fred's mouth recaptured Snape's, that hand going to hold his jaw in place with a grip that would surely bruise, and the kiss this time was fierce, brutal. Claiming. "We'll have you, pet, never fear," Fred said, his voice holding a steel that Snape had never heard before. "We'll have you when we're ready, and not a moment before."

George simply kept at it exactly how he had been, maddening broad strokes over and over his hole until Snape thought he might scream or come just from that single point of stimulation. He couldn't really do either of course, his body too well trained to allow the latter and his mouth very thoroughly occupied with Fred's.

Fred seemed to enjoy kissing above all else, treating it like it was sex itself and he was definitely the one on top, nibbling and licking, taking Snape's mouth with his agile tongue, feeding off of Snape's cries of helpless pleasure. Snape began to tremble with need, with other emotions he wouldn't, couldn't admit to yet, and that seemed to be the signal they'd been waiting for.

George's tongue breached his body in one swift stab, going deep with an obscene wriggle, wet and hot and perfect. Fred's hand let his face go again, and wandered down to torment his nipples, Fred's mouth following by the scenic route, over neck and ear and collarbone, the hollow of Snape's throat and the curve of his shoulder. His teeth making surprise appearances at nothing like predictable intervals, leaving red half-circles and Snape shivering in their wake.

Fred's hand and mouth left him altogether for a moment as he stretched up and over Snape's body, bringing his cock within tantalizingly close distance to Snape's mouth. Snape raised his head and extended his tongue to try and get a taste, but Fred spotted him and shifted his hips away. "Naughty," he said with a wicked grin. He grabbed the small bottle Snape had left on the nightstand and asked, "Lubricant?"

Snape nodded wordlessly, stomach suddenly clenching in nervousness despite George's agile tongue still working busily in his arse. They both seemed to sense something was amiss, and George pulled away to rub at Snape's cock with his cheek, eyes tender and concerned. "Are you all right with this?" he asked, in the same gentle tone Snape had used with Harry earlier.

"We could go another way, if you need to," said Fred, squeezing Snape's hands where they were still trapped in his grip.

George let Snape's legs go, laid his head down on one bony hip and said, "We want you to feel safe with us."

Snape closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and centred himself. He opened them again and looked from one concerned gaze to the other, the realization that he could trust them settling slowly into his chest like a small sun. The tightness in his belly eased and he relaxed into their grips. "Yes, safe," he said dreamily, letting his eyes fall shut once more.

Two mouths descended into the silence that followed, Fred's to suck a circle of marks around his neck like an ephemeral collar, George's to lick hot and wet up his prick. Fred's hand began to pet him, neck to hip over and over like he was gentling a nervous steed while George's fingers, slick with what he presumed was the potion, began to circle his entrance.

The frighteningly familiar passion washed over Snape in a wave, taking away his worries along with his dignity, his self-control and the last of his doubts. "Yes, yes, please, yes, fuck me, take me, use me, please!" he begged, parting his legs even wider, bracing them open on the bed so he could thrust back onto George's finger.

They took the words to heart this time, George adding another finger and scraping his teeth ever so gently up the length of Snape's cock. Fred's weight shifted and his cock probed at Snape's lips, shoving its way inside when Snape gasped in shock. This was exactly what Snape wanted, what he'd needed and not had for longer than he could even remotely begin to calculate with a third thick finger driving into his body.

Fred's weight held Snape's chest immobile while his free hand guided his cock in and out of Snape's eager lips, the angle making things messy and giving Snape little more he could do than open up wide and take it as Fred fucked his mouth. He was salty, tangy, and smelled of musk and soap and sex; his cock was hot and hard, the skin like loose velvet as it slid back for Snape's probing tongue. His knuckles were a rough contrast where they brushed against Snape's chin and cheek, the hands of a working man.

George's cock was thicker even than his fingers when it slid into Snape, the potion making sure there was no resistance at all, just the smooth glide of flesh into flesh. Snape was lost in a sea of sex, his mind floating in a haze of pleasure and submissive need. His entire body went taut when George's hands gripped him, gentler than Fred's but still callused and huge, so huge as they covered his hips completely. George's thrusts were deep and fast, a rhythm designed to shove them both over the edge swiftly and mercilessly.

Snape suddenly found himself completely filled as Fred leaned forward and slid relentlessly into Snape's throat, forcing Snape to swallow around him. Oh, it was perfect, and he hummed his contentment when Fred took up a rhythm with no relation at all to George's except for the same insistent drive toward orgasm. He had no other way of showing how much he enjoyed himself, his own pleasure utterly tertiary to the proceedings as they took him from both ends.

Fred surprised him by coming first, shouting, "Severus!" as hot seed spilled directly into his throat, pulling away at the last minute to smear come over his lips and tongue. "Good boy," he said afterward, staying right where he was and petting Snape's hair with his free hand.

"You're doing so well for us, pet," growled George, his rough tone at odds with the kind words of praise. His thrusts sped up and Snape realised that he'd been holding back so Snape didn't choke. In fact, they'd been considerate in every detail so far, giving Snape the illusion of helplessness, of being used and abused, while still taking the utmost care to give only what he could take and no more.

"Th-thank you," Snape gasped out, licking at the sticky, bitter fluid on his lips, "sirs!" Fred's come was delicious, a flavour he hadn't had in so very long and one that pushed him deeper into this forbidden role. George pounding into him was a wash of static that slowly pushed out all other thoughts, any possible ways to be besides used, taken, theirs. Fred's weight on his chest distanced him from it strangely, blocking his view of George and erasing from his mind all images of the twin who was having him by filling his vision with the twin who had just had him.

Snape's own prick was leaving smears of precome where it rubbed against his belly, jostled into erratic motion by George's relentless thrusting. He wanted, needed to come, but it was just as distant as the memory of George's face right now, his whole being focused on pleasing his new lovers. He didn't know what to do, or even if he should do anything, trapped as he was beneath Fred's weight and pinioned on George's thick cock.

George took that decision, too, away from him, spilling into Snape's pliant, willing body with a hoarse shout. Snape whimpered, and swallowed against the sudden fear that they'd leave him like this now that they'd done with him; pull out, get off and walk away. Something must have shown in his face, because Fred said gently, "Ssh, you're a good boy," one hand still gently smoothing through Snape's tangled, sweaty hair.

"And good boys get rewarded," said George, pulling out of him carefully, his weight shifting on the bed until that wicked, wicked mouth once again descended on Snape's cock, this time taking it in completely.

"Don't come yet," warned Fred, and Snape yanked his libido back from flinging itself gleefully over the edge.

Snape felt George's hands run up his body and then begin touching Fred, Snape's prick twitching as the memory of the two of them kissing over his shoulder flashed through his mind, and extrapolated itself into an image of them making love in a tangle of strong limbs and freckles. His orgasm was nearly inevitable now, and only years of control and some rather unsavoury thoughts managed to keep him from violating Fred's order.

"I'm ready," said Fred mysteriously, and Snape whimpered when George pulled off his cock, still holding it upright and lapping around the base. Fred slid downward and Snape nearly broke when he felt George positioning his cock at Fred's entrance, felt Fred sliding down onto him until Fred's weight was resting gingerly on his narrow hips. Instead of stopping, George simply moved his oral attentions to the place where they were joined, tongue sloppy and wet and indiscriminate as to whether it was licking Snape's cock or Fred's arse.

Fred gave a few experimental thrusts, rocking his hips until Snape was seated even deeper into him. "Fuck, that's good," he said, body stretched so that he could hold Snape's hands and still ride Snape's prick.

Snape moaned in response, the intimacy as unexpected as the pleasure, and craned his neck upward, hopeful for a kiss. He didn't have anything to say, really, couldn't form anything more than incoherent sounds of pleasure, and he wanted back that anchoring, ravaging mouth that had occupied his so thoroughly thus far.

Fred nipped at his lips, then said, "You can help, you know," in a tone that suggested both amusement and admiration for the self-control that kept Snape's hips still despite George's mouth, Fred's arse and his own obvious need.

"Yes, sir," Snape managed, impressed that he had any language left in him at all as he canted his hips first down, then back up again, feeling the long glide out and in, George's tongue still chasing at the place where he entered Fred's body.

"Oh good boy," Fred moaned, clenching around him. "He's long like you, but the curve feels so different, George," he murmured, then finally recaptured Snape's lips for another searing kiss, his mouth nearly as hot as the clasp of his arse around Snape's cock.

"Love the taste of you together," said George, the puffs of hot air more torment against Snape's most sensitive parts.

Snape felt his balls drawing up, orgasm almost inevitable as he pumped his hips, helpless against the pleasure they were offering him. He didn't know what they wanted from him, if he should beg or be silent or even if they'd be upset if he came, but he was nearly too far gone to find out, his thrusts erratic and desperate. He drove into Fred again and again, arching up off the bed as the pleasure grew beyond his controls, pushed beyond anything he'd felt before by the simple fact that it was entirely good. That he wouldn't be ashamed of any of it, come morning.

"Yes, want to taste your come in him," said George, nipping ever so gently at his balls. Snape cried out into Fred's mouth, that small bit of something like permission all he needed to leap gratefully over the edge and into the white-hot fire of orgasm. It flashed through him like lightning, every muscle going rigid as he spilled into the welcoming tightness of Fred's arse.

George was already licking at the small trickle that leaked out when he collapsed, panting, on to the bed, hands still held in Fred's implacable grip, prick still buried in Fred's tight arse. "Thank you, sirs," he said again, nothing else coming to mind but the rote responses drilled into him so long ago, and yet never meant so genuinely until now.

"Oh trust us, pet," said George, the words vibrating through Snape's cock and drawing a final shudder of pleasure from him.

Fred pulled away gently, George's tongue following eagerly, lapping at the seed that spilled down Snape's prick as he did. "It was our pleasure," he said, kissing Snape one last, thorough time before moving to cuddle beside him, letting Snape's hands go almost reluctantly.

George lapped at the head of Snape's cock a few more times, then crawled up his body to share the taste in a kiss that was shockingly sweet in contrast to Fred's fierceness. As Snape calmed and came back to himself, became grounded in his usual mindset and away from the floating freedom of submission, he began to mentally catalogue each flavour in the kiss. It was with a certain humour and a spark of lust that he tasted himself, Fred and George, the curry they'd had for dinner and the pleasure they'd just had in each other. "Mine, too," he said with a chuckle.

"You are quite a surprise," said George, nuzzling Snape's neck and curling on his other side, like being between warm, living bookends.

Fred made a soft noise of agreement, lacing his fingers through his brother's, both their hands laying on Snape's concave belly. "A very pleasant one, indeed, pet."

Snape arched like a cat and stretched muscles that wanted to try and stiffen up after all the unaccustomed activity, then put his arms around both their shoulders, feeling them relax minutely as though they'd been worried he wouldn't accept their affection, even after everything else he'd happily taken from them. "You'll be even more surprised next time," he said with a wicked grin, "when I take charge and you two get to be the pets. I've always wanted a matched set of purebred puppies, after all."

That got the laugh he expected, warm and affectionate from them both. Eventually one of them did a cleaning spell and they all moved under the covers, sharing lazy kisses and quiet conversation until they drifted off to sleep with Snape thinking that, for once, this was definitely something he could get used to.

It wasn't until morning that he felt the small twinge of guilt for having forgot, if only for a few hours, his obligations to and feelings for Harry.

A Question of Etiquette X: Rites of Passage