"It was just another long cold, dull Christmas holiday with the family. The place reeked of pine and George had come down with dragon pox, ( no thanks to Charlie, as they were both lying in bed not infecting the rest of us). Ron, Harry, Ginny and Hermione were all sitting by the blazing fire, playing some odd Muggle game Hermione brought: "Srambles" or some such, not really important. Mum and Dad were, as per usual after Christmas dinner, dancing together in a corner of the living room to Celestine Warbeck.
Which leaves me sitting at the kitchen table with a very bored Fred, who was absentmindedly watching Ron argue with Hermione that his word was actually a word in that silly Muggle game. Well it looked like that to me, anyway, for I was momentarily transfixed by his finger. You know, it has never occurred to me to fancy my brothers. We all kind of figured George and Fred did...things, together but we just quilled it up to them being weird, or twins. But sitting in a quiet kitchen with Fred as he slowly moved his long, skinny freckled finger through the whipped cream on top of our Christmas cake was surprisingly provocative. I didn't have to adjust myself until after he brought his now creme covered finger to his mouth and slowly inserted it. I'm not sure if he knew I was watching him or not, but when he started moving his finger slowly in and out of his mouth his head bobbing with each thrust, did I have to adjust my fully hard cock.
Yeah, I swing both ways, but bloody hell, how in Merlin's bollocks is anyone supposed to compose themselves with a show like that? And he continued. After several minutes of sucking his finger, he pushed the long freckled finger back into the top of the cake and began coating his finger all over again. Now, mind you, it's not like I just got all hot and randy over one instance. All weekend as he'd been helping Mum do the cooking, and managed to make it shockingly sexual. He would be sitting there running those long, sexy fingers through something - anything from ground pork - to cake batter, to mashed turnips - and started sucking it like a blood pop. So I think it was perfectly natural ( and it demonstrated a lot of self control ) for me not to react. He obviously didn't have much, and it was evident that he wasn't getting any when he normally does.
I did make sure Mum and Dad had gone upstairs for the night, as per their tradition. Ron and the others were still arguing pointlessly over words, so no one would miss me, right? Yeah. I mean there is only so much a bloke can take. He's my kid brother! And I didn't want to sit there fancying him. So I decided to head out to a pub I go to from time to time. Hadn't decided on which one. I figured I'd wait untill I got outside to decide.
More than likely it'd be my place of choice as of late. They have great rooms, they name them after instruments of bondage. My favourite room is the ' Whip '. Even has a dragon hide whip on the wall, ( which I've only used on one occasion. I swear ) Anyway, it overlooks the dock and you can watch the boats come in and out or watch the people coming and going, all from the comfort of my bed.
Anyway, I'd had as much of Fred and his enthralling ministrations as I could take. As Ron and Ginny were now brandishing wands, I chose the lesser of two evils and decided it was time for a break. "I'm off. Going for a pint if Mum and Dad should ask."
Fred was up, eyes lit with hope and a cord of whipped crème hanging from his chin. 'Take me with you, he begged'. Didn't want be left home with "the kidd o's", as he called them. I tried to think of a reason to say no, but he'd already had both our jackets in hand and was out the door before I could muster a reply. Bollocks, I said, because even if there were someone of decent looks, I'd be settling for a wank in the Burrow later on.
Large snowflakes were falling - and beginning to accumulate on the wooden pier. The ocean was practically still, but for some small waves which moved the few boats still docked in the winter. A bell hanging off one of the masts, rang softly from waves. The crack of Disapparation was the only other sound on this cold dark December night, as everyone seemed to be inside for the evening. Bill and Fred quickly put their hands into their trouser pockets to keep them warm.
"Let's go, it's bloody cold."
"Where're we going?" Fred asked, falling in step beside his brother.
Pulling his collar up around his neck, Bill nodded toward a row of buildings on the other side of the pier. Fred looked around Bill to see their destination. "Steak and Bondage? Wicked!"
"It's a pub I come to from time to time, so don't be a git, or I'll never take you anywhere again," Bill said sharply, pulling his coat closer to his chest.
"No worries, big bro. I'll be the example of wizard sophistication," Fred answered, jumping a few feet to cross a corner of the pier, daring the water bellow to thwart his fun.
Bill shook his head, seemingly unsure whether this was a good idea or not. Walking up to the front of the pub, a black cat jumped out from behind one of the empty barrels sitting outside the door. Bill opened the door to allow Fred to enter first, seizing the opportunity to take a quick appraisal of Fred's buttocks. Inside, the pub was nearly as soundless as outside. Only four people sat at the highly polished bar, and the eleven or so tables didn't look as though they'd been used all day. A festive red garland was suspended from the low hanging beams which crossed the ceiling, and a large blinking, Muggle Christmas tree stood in the far right hand corner, opposite the fireplace.
"Happy Christmas, Bill," the barman called, waving a hand from behind two of his patrons whom he'd been speaking quietly with. "What'll it be?"
Bill smiled back, draping his coat over the back of a chair at the front of the pub and closest to the fire. "Happy Christmas. Two pints please."
"Coming right up," the barman answered, grabbing two pint glasses from under the bar.
Fred hung his coat over Bills and sat down, looking around in awe at the pub's interiour and pushing his hands between his knees, shivering. "Fun place," he said excitedly.
"Here you go, gents," the barman said, appearing out of nowhere. "And if you're hungry the house special tonight is fish and chips. Actually the only thing I have is fish and chips, but they're tasty if you're in fer it."
"No thanks, Mitchell, we've already eaten. Just getting a break from the family, you know," Bill answered, taking a frothy pint. "Cheers," he called, holding up his glass.
Fred held his up too and smiled at the barman. "Cheers."
"'Dis one of yer brothers?" Mitchell asked pleasantly.
"Yeah, he's one of the twins. Fred, this is Mitchell, Mitchell my brother, Fred."
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Mitchell said, before excusing himself to ring out two of the four customers.
"Nice bloke, didn't even ask if I were of age," Fred said, drinking half his pint in one gulp, the foam covering his upper lip.
"Well don't make a git of yourself and he won't," Bill chastised, but it was lost on Fred who was currently inspecting the dark wooden room further.
"So why do they call this place bondage?"
"I believe it started as a joke, a way to get the fisherman to come to this place over the pubs further in town. They name the rooms after some bondage item or another," Bill answered, pulling his feet up to rest on the opposite chair, letting the fire warm up his feet.
"Wicked," Fred purred, then downed the rest of his pint looking hopeful to Bill.
"Take it easy on this stuff, I don't fancy carrying you out of here," Bill said, motioning to Mitchell for another round. Bill's expression was almost sullen, with the prospect of not getting buggered after Fred's ministrations got him all randy.
An hour later, Mitchell brought over a pitcher of the house stout and set it in front of Bill and Fred. "If you get too pissed remember, I've an empty house upstairs. Take yer pick."
Bill inclined his head, and thanked Mitchell.
"This pitcher's on me. If you don't mind I'll lock the door, it's nearly closing time and you're the only new customers I've had in over three hours." Mitchell didn't wait for a reply, but merely walked over and bolted the door. "If you need anything else just call. We'll be playing darts." Mitchell went back to the bar where his two friends stood, darts in hand. The woman cackled at something the other guy said.
With a calculated look at the bar, Fred took a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket, lighting one with his wand. With a wink he offered it to Bill, who was absently staring into the fire, his mood growing more sullen with each passing minute.
Accepting the cigarette with a shrug, Bill took a heavy drag on it, and immediately started coughing. "Bloody Hell, you git!" he shouted. "That's not a cigarette at all, that's..." he paused as the other three occupants of the room were now staring at them. "That's extrho runco!" he said more quietly.
"Yeah, got it from Charlie. Good in'it?" Fred smiled broadly.
Extrho runco was also know as dragon weed as it was fed to dragons to fuel their fiery breaths. When smoked by humans, the odourless smoke had a psychedelic effect and sometimes even acted as an aphrodisiac. It was also considered against the norms of proper society.
"It's bad enough you smoke, but if Mum finds out you have this, she'll have both our bollocks," Bill scolded.
Fred waved off his concern as the other patrons went back to their game. Draining half his pint, he pushed the glass to the center of the table and leaned over. "She never knows. Sides, it's Boxing Day."
Bill looked at the clock that Fred had pointed to, and indeed it was Boxing Day. In fact, it was clearly past midnight. He turned back to Fred, as though that had answered all his concerns, and raised his glass. "To Boxing Day!"
Downing their pints, Bill took a long drag of the joint and walked up to the bar, bringing back two shots of Jameson whiskey, Muggle, but with a great flavour. The Weasley's had always celebrated Boxing Day as one of the biggest holidays of the year, even having a modest dinner on Christmas day to feast the day after. Started out to keep the kids happy after all the presents were unwrapped and the rows started. Downing their shots to Boxing Day, Fred pulled out a longer joint, smiling at his older brother.
Fred downed his shot, grimacing immediately. "Ahh! That's not right. It burns almost as much as Firewhiskey. Is it Muggle?"
"It's a lot smoother, I think," Bill said, licking the inside of the shot glass.
"Shall we?" Fred asked, holding up the joint.
Bill nodded with an equally wide grin and filled their pints back up, leaving a nice bit of head.
The fire was dying down, and Fred's face glowed as he put the joint between his lips, Bill watched seemingly captivated by his younger brother. Fred pulled a long drag, and handed the joint to Bill before leaning back in his chair. Taking a drag himself, Bill kept his eyes on Fred watching as he blew the smoke through a tight circle of lips. Fred started laughing directly.
The laughter was infectious. "What?" Bill laughed.
Leaning over the table Fred faced Bill still laughing. "George and Charlie are puking their bollocks out with large pustules seeping on their beds, as we're," Fred laughed louder. "We're getting pissed. Ah haaa haaaa!"
Bill found this rather humorous as well and handed the joint back to Fred.
"Oh, here. Here, lean in I'll show you something," Fred said excitedly, calming his laughing fit. He took a long drag, leaned over the table a few centimeters from Bill, and opened his lips. He slowly blew the smoke to Bill who instinctively opened his mouth slightly. "George calls it a shootie," Fred murmured, then sat back in his seat laughing.
Bill blew out the smoke, which had a different flavour to it, a hint of something else. Chocolate, or was it minty? "Used to," Bill composed his speech. His cock was fully hard and painfully tucked into his boxers. "I used that a time or two to get a kiss from a bird."
"Wicked! Fred said, his eyes a little droopy.
"Eh, Bill?" Mitchell called. "If you need anything we'll be in the back room, shooting pool. Also I'll leave the fryer on a bit longer if you get hungry. Help yourself to a room if you want."
Bill held up his glass. "Thanks."
"Oh, here," Fred said, jumping up feverishly, taking the joint and leaning over the table again. Bill, cautiously leaned in as Fred took a longer drag - nearly ended the joint and slowly blew the smoke into Bill's offered mouth. Bill closed his eyes, inhaling. A wet tongue moved over his bottom lip from one side to the other. He lazily opened his eyes to see Fred even closer.
Bobbing his head up and down, he asked, "Like that?"
Bill took the joint, sucked the last bit of smoke from it, and tossed the remaining into the fireplace. "Kinda," he answered, holding the smoke in his lungs. "More like this." His lips lightly brushed Fred's as he slowly exhaled, his fingers digging into the sides of the lacquered table to keep his balance. Fred inhaled while Bill ran his tongue over the bottom of Fred's bottom lip, then bit down slightly. While Fred worked to keep the smoke in, Bill let go of the lower lip and ran his tongue over the upper, Fred moved his head slightly to the side, giving Bill more room. Pressing his lips to Fred's, he closed his lips over his younger brother's. Fred exhaled and joined in the kiss, keeping it soft and intimate.
Slightly breathless, Bill pulled away a few minutes later speaking softly his face flushed. "Erm...more like that."
Fred's looked blankly at Bill. "Recon that works loads of times, yeah?"
With his signature smile, Bill said, "Got another smoke?"
Fred pulled out another joint and offered it to Bill. He took it and lit it, immediately putting the joint out and leaning into Fred again. Fred opened his mouth and Bill pressed their lips together again, sharing the smoke and their tongues. This time Bill found the different flavour he'd originally tasted with the first 'shootie'. It was Fred. The kiss rapidly turned from intimate to needy. Bill wanted more of that taste and brought his left hand up to shadow Fred's cheek - taking command of the snog. He broke the kiss and both boys gasped for air.
"That was brilliant," Fred exclaimed. "Loads better than Charlie."
Bill stood up straight. "Charlie?"
"How do you think we got the weed? Course it was George who snogged him," Fred said, looking thoughtfully at the table top. "S' how he got the pox I expect. Rotten luck that."
"Maybe for George," Bill said, downing the last bit of beer in his glass. He re-lit the joint and took a drag, giving it back to Fred, who was again playing with the bit of foam still in his glass. Sucking the foam off his finger loudly, he took the joint.
Rounding the table, Bill pulled Fred out of his chair, pushing him to the table and stepping between his legs so they were trouser to trouser, cock to hard cock. "This one we call, hotbox," Bill said, turning the joint so the lit part was in his mouth and leaving a bit out for Fred to drag on.
Fred blew and sucked through the joint. Bill immediately pulled the joint out and through the last bit in the fire, crushing his lips to Fred's. Fred wrapped his legs around Bill's and pulled him closer, both fighting for dominance with their tongues as the dragon weed smoke tingled on their tongues. Breaking the kiss, Bill place wet kisses along Fred's cheekbone and down his neck, pulling at the skin once he got to his collarbone. Moving the shirt collar away, he sucked hard on Fred's flesh, eliciting a gasp of lust from his brother.
When Fred began wiggling, trying to get out from under Bill's lips, Bill released Fred's neck, obviously happy with his work. Rubbing his thumb over the dark red spot, he again took to snogging Fred. Fred rutted himself against Bill's hard cock, drawing several wanton moans from Bill. Pulling away for much needed air, Bill stepped back and grabbed their coats.
"Come on," he said, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. The fire had all but extinguished itself, and the candles which lit the room were dying down, so that only a soft glow illuminated the way to the stairs. "I'll tell them we're staying and then we'll continue our...celebration up there, yeah?"
Fred jumped up and grabbed his jacket, pushing the chair over in his excitement. "I'll bag two more pints."
Walking the twenty or so steps to the door to the back room, Bill knocked on the doorjamb, peeking around the corner. Mitchell was kneeling atop the pool table thrusting his veiny cock into the other bloke's arse, holding his head to the side to easily suck blood from his neck. The woman was on her hands and knees sucking the man's cock. The man ( George Bill though ) had one hand in Mitchell's hair and the other in the woman's mane of blacck curles, grunting in ecstasy. She pulled off long enough to give Bill a small wave, while come dripping off the tip George's uncommonly hard cock.
"We'll just...erm...sorry. Just thought I'd let you know we're going up, too pissed to Apparate and all."
Mitchell turned to face Bill, his lustful, hungry expression turning into a smile, blood dripping from his fangs. "Oh, sure. Have a good rest, and Happy Boxing Day."
"Erm...you too," Bill said, a little uneasily.
"Oh, would you want to join us would you? I mean after you put the kid to bed? Always room for one more." Mitchell asked, stilling his thrusts into the man. "George and Annie'd be happy to have you."
"Maybe next time, bit tired." Bill turned to walk out, then stopped. Mitchell had turned back to the man and was about to sink his teeth into him again. "Besides, my neck still a bit sore from the last time, and that was a fortnight ago."
Mitchell shrugged at him and went back to his threesome. Bill turned and walked out of the room, barely able to spot Fred by the stairway. The stairs were at the far left corner of the room and ascended upward behind the bar to an ' L ' shaped hallway. Each of the rooms were named, and Fred followed Bill to the end of the hall, where he turned and took the second room on the left, which was called, The Whip Room. Opening the door, Bill let Fred go in first and stepped in behind him. The room was very small. Bill could just barely close the door with Fred standing just inside. The only furniture in the room was a large, double bed and a narrow table on which sat an oil lamp, but the sparse furniture still managed to overcrowd the tiny space. The room seemed suitable for a single person, which became evident as Bill and Fred could barely move without bumping into one another.
With a wave of his wand, the lamp lit, splashing the room with a soft yellow glow. Bill closed the door and waved his wand to lock it. The bed was up against the window, and he placed his wand on the sill, then turned to Fred and accepted the offered pint.
"To a memorable adventure," Fred offered, holding up his glass.
"I'll drink to that, little brother."
Fred downed about half of the beer and then offered the remaining bit of the joint he'd been inhaling up the stairs. Bill took it and smiled.
"You've a bit...here, I'll get it." He leaned in and languidly, licked the foam from Fred's upper lip. Dropping the joint and his nearly full glass of beer to the unfinished, uneven floor, Bill grabbed both sides of Fred's face and crushed their lips together. Fred dropped his pint as well, desperately pulling at Bill's tucked shirt. Toeing off his boots, Bill stepped onto the beer covered floor and continued attacking Fred's mouth while Fred pulled his shirt open, little buttons flying about the room. Bill pulled away, letting his shirt drop to the floor, and pulled Fred's jumper over his head exposing the lean, freckled, bare chest beneath.
Fred stepped in for another kiss but was stopped by Bill's hand. "What's wrong?"
He pushed Fred to his knees, and flipped open the button to his black trousers open. "You've been driving me barmy all night sucking your fingers, so now try sucking something more appropriate for those lips."
Smiling broadly, Fred pulled open Bill's trousers, freeing the hard cock from its confines. Bill grabbed his cock and tapped the head of it against Fred's face wiping the leaking precome over Fred's nose. Fred sucked the head into his mouth, pulling Bill trousers down to his ankles. With a tight grip of his lips, Fred began bobbing on Bill's cock, just as he had been doing at the Burrow with his finger. Bill could feel the tingling of the dragon weed all through his body, and he wasn't going to last with Fred sucking his cock like that. Fred had grabbed the base of Bill's cock and was stroking in time with his bobbling head. Bill pulled him off long enough to step out of his trousers and kick them under the bed. Pulling Fred's head back to his throbbing cock, he started thrusting into Fred's mouth.
"Bloody hell, you're brilliant at this. And," Bill muttered. "I'm gonna come. Don't swallow yet," he ordered. "okay?" Fred tightened his lips and his grip on Bill's cock, turning his head with every push of his lips. "Stop," Bill exclaimed, pulling his cock out of Fred's mouth. "Don't swallow," he said frantically again, as he fisted his cock holding it just inside Fred's mouth. Standing up on his toes, Bill pulled Fred's lips apart with his left hand, watching as his cock fill Fred's mouth with globs of pearly liquid.
Fred stuck his tongue further out, keeping all of Bill's come inside his mouth. When Bill's hand stopped, he pulled Fred up, turning him so his back was facing the bed and crushed their lips together. He dueled with Fred's tongue sharing the taste of himself inside Fred's minty mouth. When he pulled away, Fred frantically finished stripping his kit, kicking them away from the bed.
Fred lay on the bed, nodding to Bill to join him.
Pulling Fred's legs in the air, Bill licked the arch of Fred's foot, which tasted far better than it smelled. Pulling the sock free with his teeth, Bill licked down to the ankle, and then continued licking until his face was just over Fred's sack. Sucking one into his mouth Fred let out a howl of pleasure or pain, which one Bill wasn't sure so he did the other one, rolling it around with his tongue. Releasing it, he licked at the underside of Fred's cock, and gently at the twitching leaking head before sucking it in all the way. Fred wiggled and muttered underneath Bill's ministrations.
Silently reaching for his wand, and sucking for all he was worth, Bill simultaneously cast a spell and inserted his wand into Fred's arse. Fred shouted and lurched upright as his cock exploded inside Bill's mouth.
Though Fred and Bill had about the same width, Fred's cock was a little longer and curved to the left. Unprepared for the unexpected amount of Fred's come, Bill found himself gagging.
After cleaning Fred of all he'd dropped, Bill pulled Fred's legs up around his neck, positioning his cock at Fred's entrance. The tingling from the weed was overpowering and, with a single thrust, Bill was fully inside Fred. Fred, however, howled, his face scrunched up as if in pain. Fortunately, the dragon weed dulls the senses, so Bill's thrust would normally hurt far more. Leaning over Fred, Bill began kissing his neck. With each thrust Fred was pushed closer to the wall until his head began hitting the rough plaster. Bill stopped long enough to pull a pillow behind Fred's head and resumed thrusting.
Bill's cock slipped from Fred's body, and he quickly grabbed it, squeezed tightly, and pressed it to Fred's entrance. Three frantic thrusts later Bill's cock slipped out again. Growling loudly, he put his right leg on the floor, his left bent in an attempt to keep Fred's arse high enough off the bed to fully bugger him. Standing on his toes, his body taught, damp with sweet and trembling he went back to thrusting frantically into Fred's body. Continuing to kiss Fred's neck, Bill found a spot and began sucking, hard and finding a steady fast pace. Letting his brother's neck go, Bill buried his face in Fred's neck and howled as his cock pumped come inside Fred. His body quaked with his orgasm, and Fred pulled him closer, rutting his cock against Bill's furry stomach.
When his senses returned after his orgasmic high, Bill was lying on his side facing the window, Fred rutting his cock against Bill and kissing his neck.
"Lift your leg a bit," Fred whispered into his ear.
He did, and grabbed the wall for support as Fred shoved his hard cock inside Bill in one fast thrust. "Fucking hell! Where's the bloody lube?"
"On m-my co-cock," Fred studdered. "Merlin's bollocks you're tight."
"Shite! That bloody well burns," Bill complained.
"Be thankful we had the weed," Fred said, pulling out slowly and pushing back in even slower.
Bill's tone changed when Fred found a slower, more even pace. He pulled Bill's raised leg over his own legs, giving him optimal room to bugger his brother; their bodies, although several years apart in age, fit well in this position. Every curve of Bill's body, fit like a puzzle to Fred's front. In contrast to Bill's hurried movements, Fred's were tender and slow. He caressed Bill's leg, his side, arms all the while placing tender kisses to his neck and shoulder. Bill began stroking his cock, he'd never shagged like this before. All his other conquests were rushed and hard, but this was soft and tender. Bill could feel the effects of the weed tingling through his body and wondered if this is what they called 'making love'. For a fleeting moment, he thought of his parents, then willed his mind to shut off and focus on the thick cock moving in and out of him.
With a soft whimper, Fred's motions stopped and Bill could feel a slight tremor against his back. Fred grabbed Bill into a tight hug while his breathing slowed.
Bill was quickly coming down from his high, when Fred's cock slipped from his body, and the sound of light snoring filled his ear. He was moving in and out of sleep for a few minutes, or so he thought. When he reached over to turn out the light, it was already off, and from the light coming through the window he could see two sets of towels now on the table.
"Oi!" Bill grumbled. "It must be nearly morning." Bill liked this room because it gave the best view of the dock where without even having to get out of bed he could look out the window. It was still snowing little flakes - but hadn't accumulated much over night. Fred moved suddenly, kneeing Bill in the arse, which to Bill's annoyance, was still throbbing. Then he noticed something. Tucked between the bed and the widow sill was a bit of paper. He pulled it free to find a copy of Unrobed. Rather than going back to sleep, he flipped through it finding two pages stuck together. Annoyed that someone wouldn't clean up after themselves, he pulled them apart, tapping the pages with his wand, spelling away the offending crusty flakes.
The red headed man on the page seemed quite thankful for being unstuck, he began disrobing.
~ ~ * ~ ~
"Is this bloody unreal or what?" Bill asked, as the naked red head in the issue of Unrobed began cleaning himself off. He'd clearly had a wank over Bill recount over his and Fred's excursions, to Bill's complete indignation.
"Oi! Did you just have a wank on me?"
The nearly nude man in the magazine just shrugged.
Bill squinted at the magazine. Although the nude man had appeared starkers, and his feet were under the covers of the bed he occupied, and Bill could just make out something. "Did you keep your socks on? You bloody perv," he barked, shaking the magazine.
The man fell off his bed from Bill's shaking of the magazine and climbed back up. Seemingly annoyed himself, he stood up on his bed, cock bobbing between his legs, and pointed at the end of Bill's bed. He looked down and to his astonishment, he'd neglected to remove his own black dress socks. He shrugged at the book. "Anyway, so here I lay, my arse sticky and burning, my cock and stomach sticky, and my kid brother laying starkers behind me. Is this fucked up or what?"
No answer.
"What am I supposed to say to him in the morning? Sorry, I got a bit pissed and buggered you into the wall? Won't happen again."
No answer.
"I mean, was this just another poor decision on my part?
No answer.
"He did seem into it, or was that just the weed?"
No answer.
"How do I keep getting myself into situations like this?"
No answer.
"Oh, and by the way, Fred, don't tell anyone."
No answer.
"Except I'm pretty sure Mitchell or Annie already saw us. So either a vampire or a ghost know what we've been doing. Oh and as they were buggering a werewolf on a pool table, there's a good chance a wolf knows too."
"Are you going to say anything?" Bill asked, growing increasingly peeved by the moment - with the naked redhead or himself he wasn't sure.
The naked red head just shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed scratching his bollocks.
Bill flung the magazine across the room - well, to the floor at least - which made him more morose, as the tiny room killed the effect. "Why the bloody hell was I talking to a ruddy magazine anyway?" Still irritated, he punched the pillow and settled down again in an attempt to sleep.
When Bill woke next he was alone in bed. He quickly jumped up to look out the window, panic grabbing at his senses. Scanning for Fred, all he saw was a fishing boat pulling away from the dock - and two dock hands throwing the ropes to the boat and waving them off. Still laying on top of the bed, in the wet spot mind you, he pulled a pillow over his bits as the door burst open. It took a moment for his heart to calm down enough to realize it was Fred who was standing in the door, smiling. His hair was wet and dripping down his beautifully freckled body and he smelled of...blood?
"Where the bloody hell have you been?" Bill snapped, still a bit startled by his imagination.
Fred smiled wider. And Bill noticed Fred was standing in the doorway completely starkers, save for a thick black, metal studded collar which rested just above a large dark red love mark. Connecting the collar to an identical cock ring was a thin shining silver chain, which was holding his cock straight out at attention. "They've got blood scented shampoo! Wicked."
"Did you? Did you just walk down the hall bloody starkers?" Bill asked, standing up and holding the pillow in front of him.
"Want to try out the collar room?" Fred asked, with a wink and tugging on the chain which hung in front of him.
Bill stared at his brother. After the unspeakable things he'd done to Fred last night, Fred appeared to be completely normal and at ease. At Fred's seductive wink, Bill's foreboding dissipated. Turning to the wall, he noticed the opened magazine. The redheaded man was now wearing a well worn pair of light blue jeans, a noticeable hole at the side of his crotch, and standing on the bed holding a sign. Please! Let Me Watch!
Bill pulled the whip from the wall and turned back to Fred, smiling. "What say we combine a room or two?" Fred turned and lead the way. Bill, first uneasily pulling on his trousers, followed closely behind Fred, a whip in one hand and a rolled up magazine in his back pocket.
~ ~ fin ~ ~