it was kel that first came up with the line "two words. joke. condoms." co-operative effort, glock and lise.

 

"Try this one," and Fred slips it onto George impatiently, fingers getting a bit slick. "There, is it--" and he leans back a little, waiting.

George peers down at himself, curly red hair and condom. "We have to use it."

"We are using it."

George rubs his hip. "I mean, use it use it," and Fred glances to one side, grabs his wand to lock the door. George swallows, and he's not looking at the dirty magazine anymore, he's just watching Fred's fingers around him, up and down and up and down and even through the latex he can feel the feathers starting. "Oh," George mumbles, feathers on the inside and Fred's fingers.

"Yeah," and Fred on his side against George, mouth just barely touching his neck, and the condom's definitely working now as little sizzling jolts go straight from Fred's fingers to his cock, hand moving up and down and up and down and up again.

"Oh, god." George's head falls, lax, against the pillow, breathing hard and tongue hanging out. "god."

"Is it working?" Fred asks into his ear suddenly, hand still moving. "Is it working?"

George opens his eyes, shakes his head a bit and then, biting his tongue and, and, and. relax, suddenly. "Oh," and he sits up akwardly. "Uh, yeah, the, feathers." He watches as Fred rolls the condom off slowly, tying the end. "Yeah, it was."

"It worked?"

George gives up and lets himself fall back slowly, breathing through his nose to try and stop panting. "it worked."

~

then:

"Er, Fred. But it's not much of a joke," George adds.

Fred's lips twitch, an aborted smile. "What?"

George rolls on his side, and flicks at the condom, which Fred is still holding in his hand, sort of in the air. "mmm, well, it felt good, you know."

An aborted giggle. "Good? Moron, it's supposed to feel like--"

"Yeah. You should try it."

"Okay," Fred might have said that a little too fast, but it was George who lay next to him and so it really doesn't matter. "Good idea. Ge...?"

George leans in close to Fred and brushes his finger so lightly along Fred's nose and even along his lips that it tingles--

"Feathers."

--and Fred feels their legs tangle underneath the covers, which meant that George wanted to settle and sleep because he had had enough. And when George hears Fred clear aside the various botched attempts and the naked witch magazine, he realizes that he could have rolled the condom off for himself.

"G'night," said absently. Then Fred's breathing tickles sporadically along George's collarbone.

So he briefly opens his eyes and sees damp soft fingers lying restful on his chest, and he can't tell who's hand they belongs to. But it really doesn't matter. Because the condom works. It did work and it was, perfect.

Fred would find out in the morning.