Colins Picture Service

By Mister Fish

Published on Dec 22, 2008

Gay

WARNING: This a work of fiction. This story depicts sexual situations between fictional minors. It may be illegal for you to read this.

DISCLAIMER: This is written in British English. I did not create, do not own, and assert no rights towards Harry Potter (J. K. Rowling/Bloomsbury/Scholastic/Warner Bros). No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement or defamation is intended.

COLIN'S PICTURE SERVICE By Mister Fish

(Part Five)

"Harry," Ron said again.

"It-- It's not--" Except Harry had his cock in a boy - Dennis squeezing tight around him, keeping him hard despite his horror - and a cock in him - Colin giving a little thrust as if to confirm it. It was very much what it looked like.

Moaning, Harry tried to pull free, but he couldn't get the leverage. Dennis was clinging to him like a limpet and Colin's weight, slight as it was, was enough extra help to keep him down.

"Don't," Dennis gasped, and his voice blended with Colin's as he added, "Harry!"

"Look at him," Colin said.

Harry shook his head, eyes tight shut. He just knew if he looked at Ron that it would all be over. His friendship. His life. Ron would hate him. Ron would-- He yelped as Colin yanked at his hair, forcing his head up.

"Look at him properly," Colin insisted.

Ron wasn't speaking. Harry couldn't.

How much had Ron seen? Had he, not Dennis, been the figure Harry had half-glimpsed earlier? Did he know about Cedric? Had he seen Harry with the plug in him, seen Harry let Colin suck him and Dennis fuck him? He felt sick, twisted up inside, and yet somehow strangely relieved. His secret was out. All his secrets were. Everything was over.

"Harry," Colin warned, that cold, commanding tone back in his voice. "Open your eyes."

Harry shook his head again.

"You gotta," Dennis said. His cheek brushed Harry's; Harry yelped when Dennis's teeth nipped at his ear lobe.

Despite himself, his eyes flew open. Dennis grinned. Colin tugged at his hair again, forcing his head up more.

"Look properly," he commanded.

Harry tried to lift his eyes to meet Ron's -- why wouldn't his friend say anything? -- but he couldn't. Instead, he looked down. Ron wasn't wearing shoes, just those thick socks of his that Harry liked so much. He wasn't wearing robes, either, just a pair of grey woollen trousers. Like all of Ron's clothes, they were worn, hand-me-downs, and a half-size too small. They fit tightly all the way up Ron's long, muscular legs, clung to his hips and strained dangerously to hold in the massive bulge.

"See?" Colin said in Harry's ear.

"I-- I-- I don't understand." Harry licked his lips, eyes fixed on the tent in his best friend's pants. His cock twitched, and Dennis squeezed around him appreciatively. "I don't-- What is this?"

"It's a big bloody boner!" Dennis cheered, and Colin coughed around a laugh.

"Harry," said Ron again. "Oh, Harry. Please don't hate me."

Now Harry did look up at him, eyes wide, sliding over the Weasley jumper to meet Ron's eyes. "Hate -- I could never hate you! Never!" he insisted. "I-- You-- You're--?"

There were tears in Ron's eyes, but he didn't look away. "Yeah. I mean..." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You look hot."

"Temperature?" Harry managed, trying to joke, but, seriously, how the hell was he having this conversation, this - whatever the hell it was - while sandwiched between two Creeveys.

"Sexy," Ron said, voice strained.

"He wants to watch," Colin said. "Don't you, Ron?"

"Yeah!" Dennis chimed in.

"You--?" Harry asked. The rest of the sentence was lost as Colin rocked into him, pushing him into Dennis. He moaned and his eyes closed themselves again, but not before he'd caught Ron swallow and nod. "Oh, fuck."

"That's it." Colin's hands dropped back to Harry's hips, encouraging him to move.

In moments, they were back in rhythm. Harry drove into Dennis, making the young boy grunt or squeal, and then shoved himself back onto Colin's steely prick, grunting in turn. He was hotter than he had ever been, harder than he'd ever been. Ron was watching him. Ron had said it was sexy. He couldn't understand it. He didn't want to understand it. He felt long fingers tentatively brush his face and moaned, whimpered more like, turning unconsciously into them, even as he fucked and was fucked. The world was cocks and fingers and. He thrust into Dennis. He impaled himself on Colin. Ron touched him. In to Dennis. Back on Colin. Ron watched. Dennis. Colin. Ron. Ron. Ron.

"Harry!" Dennis gasped. "Help!"

He heard fumbling, cloth, forced his eyes open. Dennis was reaching up above his own head, working Ron's trousers down. Harry, propped on his elbows, couldn't reach out to help without crushing the boy. How was he supposed to help? Anyway, Dennis seemed to be doing okay, even though Ron, frozen, wasn't helping at all. Panting and tugging, he got them down past Ron's hips, Ron's boxers coming down with them, his cock too at first. Dennis tugged one last time. Freed, Ron's cock sprung quickly up to smack against his belly.

Dennis let out a cheer, and Colin said "Nice," the Creeveys drowning out Harry's gasp.

Ron's fourteen-year-old cock wouldn't have looked out of place on Cedric. It might even have been bigger. Six inches at least, it stood up strong and thick, dark with blood, curving slightly upwards, stretching from Ron's thick ginger pubes and deliciously freckled balls up to his thick plum head, poking out of his foreskin. As Harry watched, pre-come beaded out of Ron's slit and slid down, over a prominent freckle right on the end of the foreskin. He had stopped moving, but even Colin's impatient thrusts inside him couldn't make him look away -- though they did force grunts from his mouth, stirring Ron's pubes and making that massive cock twitch.

"Help him," Dennis insisted, his small hand closing around Ron's balls, tugging him forward, so that Harry almost went cross-eyed trying to follow that freckle. "Go on."

The freckle called to him. He couldn't see where it was, but he knew. His tongue knew.

"Harry," Ron gasped, pleaded. "Please!"

He didn't even have to lean forward. It was right there. He opened his mouth, tongue reaching, finding, licking. Salt-sweet pre-come. There was a moan from above him, then another, mingling with the slick smack of Colin against him, of him against Dennis. Another moan, a Ron moan, cut through the Creevey brothers' panting. Ron was moaning, happily moaning. Harry was making him make those noises. He opened his mouth wider, encouraging Ron forward with flicks of his tongue. The thick weight filled him, stretched his jaw. He closed his lips around Ron's cock, sucking, tongue working the underside of the head.

"God! Harry!" Both of Ron's hands were in Harry's hair now, twisting restlessly.

"Fuck," Colin gasped out. "Fuck his face."

"Yeah," Dennis chorused. "Go on, Ron."

Harry moaned encouragingly around Ron's cock, risking crushing Dennis for a moment so he could lift one arm, grab Ron's arse -- I'm touching Ron's cheek, his mind screamed at him: awesome! -- and pull him forward. Dennis's hand was already there, doing the same, so Harry could go back to holding himself up just before Ron took a single, hesitant thrust. Harry sucked harder, humming around Ron's cock. Ron moaned in turn, thrusting again, then again, until Harry could swallow around him, letting the hot thickness enter his throat.

"Fuck," said Dennis. "He's doing it!"

Ron tasted -- he tasted amazing. He tasted of Ron. Pure, unadulterated Ron.

As if from a great distance, he heard Dennis gasp out, "Hu- harder," and he obliged, rabbit fucking the small boy. A small part of his mind was trying to tell them that this was a trick, that the Creeveys had set him up, that at any moment Ron would make him stop and curse him and beat him, but the rest of him didn't care. It would be worth it, all of it, the blackmail, the lack of control, the burn in his jaw, just for the memory of this, the feel of Ron's cock, sliding against his lips, across his tongue, down his throat.

There was a litany of "yeah," "fuck," and "Harry," over him and behind him, Ron and Colin's voice topped by Dennis's high-pitched squeals. His own wet, muffled moans were thunder in his ears. Dennis's arm wrapped itself around Harry's neck, pulling him harder both into Dennis and onto Ron. Harry could feel Dennis's cock rub against his belly as they fucked. He could feel Ron's pubs tickle his nose at the end of every thrust. He could feel Colin's balls slapping against his arse. He was hot, burning up, on fire.

His magic slipped, wild. The bed shook. The curtains billowed. Harry could feel the Creevey brothers' magic rising to meet his, coiling around him, around each other, pulling up through Harry and grounding itself in Ron. All four boys moaned. The lights blazed bright, dimmed, blazed. Someone yelled Harry's name - Colin or Dennis or Ron or maybe all three. He couldn't take it. He could. He could take anything.

Ron, he thought, with perfect, ecstatic wonder.

Except Dennis broke first, squealing and jerking under Harry, his tight channel clenching convulsively around Harry's cock, his grip on Harry pulling him deep and holding him there. Colin just ploughed forward to make up for it, his pounding cock slamming across Harry's prostate with each stroke until it suddenly expanded inside Harry, Colin losing his rhythm to short stabbing shoves as he came, grunting and snorting. Ron's hands tightened in Harry's hair, knocking Harry's glasses askew as he bellowed and shoved as deep as he could, his cock choking Harry as it filled his throat, shooting again and again, again as he pulled back so Harry got a last mouthful of it. The thick salt-sour taste of Ron's come was enough; still sucking and moaning, he emptied his own balls into Dennis's hot, slick depths.

"You're squishing me," Dennis said cheerfully, so close his lips tickled Harry's ear.

Harry forced his eyes open, pushing himself up on his elbows. At some point, Colin had pulled out of him and now sprawled out on his back at Harry's side, still breathing hard, a wide, satisfied smile on his face. Harry could feel Colin's come leaking out of him; it was kind of icky and he reached automatically for his wand before remembering Colin had taken it. When he looked around for it, he found himself instead looking at Ron, who had sat down on the bed, leaning back on his elbows. His trousers were still down. His half-hard cock, still impressively big, rested against his thigh, shiny with Harry's saliva.

I did that, Harry thought, amazed. When he swallowed he could still taste Ron's come.

Dennis shifted under him. Harry mumbled an apology, pulling back. His cock slipped free of the boy with a squishy pop, and he rolled onto his side. Dennis's hand came down between his legs to touch his puffy, winking ring, came away wet with lube and Harry's come. The boy smiled and stretched, cat-like, lewdly debauched.

"That was great," he said, a pleased hum in his voice. "Wasn't that great?" The lack of response from the other three didn't seem to perturb him. "That was brilliant!"

Colin made an agreeable noise. His outstretched fingers ghosted down Harry's back -- a thank you, perhaps.

Dennis rolled over to face Harry, leaning up to kiss him but stopping short and asking, "May I?"

Harry almost said yes, except he suddenly realised Dennis wasn't asking him. He was asking Ron, who stared at them for a moment, and then nodded. Dennis closed the rest of the way, kissing Harry softly on the lips.

"Thank you," he said, and then, before Harry could say anything back, he kissed Harry's cheek and then whispered, "Talk to Ron," in Harry's ear. "He likes you like Colin's likes you."

Harry stared.

Dennis grinned, sitting back. In a more normal volume, he added, "I quite like you as well. That was awesome fucking!"

Colin laughed. Harry just stared some more. Despite this, Dennis beamed, before clambering off the bed and retrieving Colin's wand. He cast a cleaning spell on himself with casual expertise, and then rounded up his, Colin's and Harry's clothes into three neat piles with an expert flick. Harry, who had only mastered the summoning charm for the First Task, was momentarily narked, but it was easy to let go of as Dennis bounded around the room with enthusiasm, unlocking the cabinet Colin had locked Harry's wand in and generally tidying up.

The bed moved, and a hand touched Harry's shoulder. He rolled the rest of the way onto his back to look up at Colin, who gave him a tired smile and then leaned down. Harry stretched up to meet him, and they kissed, a slow swipe of tongues.

"Thank you," Colin said, as Dennis had -- and like Dennis had been, he was talking to Ron, which confused Harry.

"I don't get thanked?" Harry asked.

Colin chuckled, climbing across him to get off the bed before leaning down to say, "Thank you, Harry," and kissing him again.

He moved to join Dennis, who cast a cleaning charm on him. Dennis turned to do one on Harry as well, but Colin shook his head, taking his wand back, and picking up his clothes. Dennis put the box of photos of Harry and Cedric on the bed, and picked up his own, looking to Colin.

"We're done," Colin said. "As promised."

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Okay." Colin and Dennis moved towards the curtain, and then Colin stopped and looked back. "The thing about bravery is it comes in many forms. Sometimes, the brave thing to do is to give up what you want in order to keep what you have. That is brave, no matter what anyone might think. But sometimes you have to give up what you have for what you want, and that's brave too. And you know what they say about Gryffindors and bravery."

"We have too much for our own good?" Dennis asked fake- innocently.

Colin rolled his eyes. "See, you totally ruined my exit, now."

"We could stick around a bit and go again," Dennis suggested, and yelped when Colin grabbed him, dragging him towards the curtains. Laughing, he waved as best he could with his hands full of clothes. "Bye, Harry! Bye, Ron!"

The Creevey brothers disappeared behind the curtain, which fell closed.

"I'm sorry," said Ron, eventually. "I'm really-- I am so sorry."

Harry sat up to look at him. It felt somewhat weird still being naked, but he also couldn't bring himself to get dressed. "Sorry for what?"

"I'm pretty stupid," Ron added, ducking his head.

"Colin thanked you," Harry said.

Ron didn't say anything.

"And earlier," Harry added, figuring this out, "at breakfast... You knew."

"Me and Colin-- Colin and I," Ron corrected automatically, shades of Hermione, "had a sort of a deal. I mean, he came to me, but."

There was a long silence.

"Dennis says you like me," Harry said when it didn't look like Ron was going to continue.

"Colin says you like me," Ron retorted.

"You were always-- You kept saying. Like with Lavender. I thought you were, you know. And then--" Harry waved a hand between them. "This."

"The thing is," said Ron, "after we saw Seamus and Dean together, you, you didn't really say anything. And I thought-- I didn't want to lose you as a friend and I thought you'd be weirded out by the whole thing. I mean, you were raised Muggle, they hate that sort of thing. Dean told me."

"Yeah," said Harry. "I mean, other people do. Not me."

"You never bloody said anything," Ron repeated, louder.

"Well, you kept being all 'yay, girls'," Harry complained. "How was I supposed to know?!"

They glared at each other, but it quickly turned into smiles. Ron chuckled.

"I think we're both pretty stupid," he said.

Harry laughed softly. "Yeah." They were quiet again for a bit, before Harry said, "I've been nicking your socks."

Ron nodded. "I worked that out."

"That's weird, right?" Harry asked. He looked up at Ron. "You think I'm weird."

"Well, yeah," said Ron, grinning at him, "but, Harry, I've always kinda thought you were weird. Weird and brilliant, that's my Harry--" He ducked his head, cheeks going red.

"This has been--" Harry frowned. "This has been a very weird day."

Ron looked up at him, cheeks still flushed. "Are you-- Are you mad at me?"

"I don't know what I am," Harry said honestly. "I'm not really sure what happened here."

"Colin, he. He came to me," Ron explained. "He said he knew what I wanted and he could get it for me. He said it was a, a service. He provided a service, for a service. He'd make a good Slytherin, that one."

Harry shook his head. "Colin's brave, in his own way."

"Yeah," said Ron. He was looking at the box of photos. "So. You and Cedric."

"It's just a thing," Harry said. "Are you-- I mean, have you ever--?"

Ron shook his head. "It's only ever been girls. Girls and you. And, well--"

"Colin and Dennis," they both chorused.

"I'm trying to be mad at him still," Harry said, "but mostly I just. Because he's right. It's worth risking what I have for what I want, and. And I'd really like to kiss you. Please?"

"Oh," said Ron, his freckles fading into the flush of his cheeks again, though he was smiling, a huge, wide, perfect Ron smile. "Yeah, if you like."

"Ron," said Harry, crawling towards him, pulling his glasses off, "I like so much the school chucked you in the Lake, which, can I just say, Wizards are seriously, seriously messed up people."

"You're a wizard," Ron said, his eyes on Harry's lips.

"Me too," Harry agreed, leaning in.

His lips brushed Ron's, then started to pull back, except Ron's hand was suddenly on the back of his head, holding him, and Ron's lips pressed to his, moving in slow circles, and Ron's tongue was flicking against him, and he opened his mouth to let it in, to let Ron in. Moaning against Ron's mouth, Harry straddled him, wrapping his arms around his best friend, his - his love, he allowed himself to think - his love. Ron's big, rough hands stroked his back, pulling them together as they kissed and kissed until neither could breathe any more. It was exactly as awesome as Harry had always expected.

"Wow," he gasped when they finally moved apart.

"You're hard," Ron said, looking down between them with wonder.

"You're huge," Harry said, doing the same. "I'm titchy up to you. No wonder you have so many siblings."

Ron nudged Harry's chin. Harry looked up at him. Ron's gaze was sharp and sincere. "You're beautiful," he said.

It was Harry's turn to blush. Ron kissed him again, pressing him down, and they moved against each other, Harry's cock sliding up and down the full length of Ron's. They both worked to get Ron's trousers the rest of the way off without losing contact and then Harry, half-delirious with the heat of Ron against him, pulled them down onto the bed, Ron on top.

"Colin left the oil," he said.

Ron propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at Harry, his eyes dark with desire. "We can-- Do you want--? We can go slow."

"We can," Harry agreed. "I want to kiss every freckle you have, but. We can do that later. Can't we? We can take it slow later. Like, tomorrow, and next week, and month, and. Too much?"

"Not enough," said Ron, smiling. "We'll need years."

Harry grinned. "Slow later. This, now."

"You really want me?" Ron asked, his smile fading, becoming hesitant.

"I really want you," Harry agreed, pulling him down to kiss him again.

They didn't speak much after that, not for a while. Like it was almost sacred -- no, Harry thought as he spread his legs. It was. It was their sacrament. He took the oil, took Ron in his hands, thick and hot and alive against his fingers. He arched his back and gasped as Ron's calloused fingers pushed into him, into a hole already slick with Colin's come. And that too was okay. Colin had eased them together outside. It was only fitting he helped ease them together inside. And then both hands were done and Ron was between his legs, guiding himself, both moaning when his cockhead pressed against Harry's entrance, when it slowly forced the used ring wider still, Harry grunting and snorting for breath and not letting Ron stop, arms and legs around Ron, pulling him on, pulling him in, that massive length stretching him to his limit, filling him, agony and ecstasy, Ron's head buried against Harry's neck, his cock buried in Harry's arse, Harry's cock trapped between them and rubbing wet streaks across his freckled belly.

"Ron," said Harry and, knowing suddenly that he could, that he was free to do so, said it, yelled it again. "Ron! Ron!"

And Ron said, "Harry," so soft and so sweet, gentle and giant as he slowly pulled back and thrust forward, building up steam until he was pounding his crying, grateful best friend into the bed, neither wanting to stop, both knowing they never had to.

It was picture perfect.

"Awww," said Dennis.

Like a one-way mirror, they could see through the charmed curtain without being seen. Hear through it too. The creaking of the bed. Ron and Harry's moans. Dennis, who hadn't bothered getting dressed, reached down, absently playing with himself.

"I'm glad they got together," he added. "I honestly thought they'd both freak out the second we left."

Colin chuckled. He was dressed, sitting in the same seat Ron had been watching from the whole time he'd been with Harry. "Gryffindors."

"Hey!" Dennis pouted. "We're Gryffindors too."

Colin laughed outright, holding his arms out. After a moment, Dennis came to join him in the chair, snuggling.

"That was fun," he said.

"Yeah." Colin smiled, a little sadly.

"Does it hurt?" Dennis asked quietly.

"A little," Colin admitted, smiling when his brother hugged him tighter. "But I always knew he loved someone else. Anyway, I got what I wanted, as much as I could. And you had fun, huh?" He mussed his brother's hair.

"I did." Dennis grinned. "Colin's Picture Service. Everyone satisfied: guaranteed." Colin laughed. "You're the best brother in the whole wide world. And maybe space."

"Maybe space?"

"Well, I've never met an alien," Dennis pointed out. "I can't know for certain."

He yelped and giggled as Colin dug his fingers into Dennis's sides. After a couple of moments, they both subsided, Dennis in Colin's lap, leaning against his shoulder as they watched Harry and Ron go at it on the bed, Ron flushed and panting, Harry rocking and moaning under him.

"Hey," said Dennis after a long moment. "Did you give back all the photos?"

"The ones clearly of Harry, sure," Colin said. "Why?"

"Welllll," Dennis drawled out, sitting up with an impish smile. Colin grinned.

Hogsmeade weekend had been a bit of a bust for Cedric. He couldn't go anywhere without being surrounded by hordes of interested people, most of them complete strangers. He'd been mobbed in Honeydukes, the Three Broomsticks, and the Hog's Head. Only with a bit of Seeker-style misdirection had he managed to sneak away from the crowd, back towards the station where the carriages up to Hogwarts left. There was one waiting, and he jumped in, falling into his seat as the carriage immediately started away.

Sighing, he ran his hands back through his hair, making it stick up at odd angles. Why he'd decided to sign up for this damn thing--! He sighed again, leaning back in his seat, catching a glimpse of the lake out of the window. Stupid second task. He turned his head to look out the other window, except, half-way around, he suddenly realised that there were too mousey-haired boys sitting in the shadows opposite, the elder with a camera hanging around his neck.

"You're not press are you?" Cedric asked.

"Hello!" said the smaller of the two. "I'm Dennis! And that's my brother Colin! We're big fans of yours!"

"Er," said Cedric, eying the doors and realising he was trapped. "Thanks. Um, look, not meaning to be rude, but--"

"The thing is," Colin interrupted him, "I've got some new photos I thought you might like to see..."

###########################-30-###########################

23rd Nov - 22nd Dec 2008 20,626 words Constructive criticism welcome.


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