Fishi-Hey everybody!! Um, this is my first HP fanfic, so go easy on the reviews if there's something terribly wrong. This is also dedicated to my twin, pasty. For your birthday!!! Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it: ):D Not much else to sa...so I hope you all like it: ):D:P
EDITED VERSION: Yay!! I fixed all the strange little sybols!! Now everyone can read it normaly!! 3
Warning: This contains twincest. That means twins having more than a sibling relationship with one another. If you don't like, don't read. I dont like heterosexuals dissing my stories because they think gay guys and lesbians are 'wrong' and they 'aren't allowed to do that'. Loving someone, even if they are of the same sex-even the same bloodline-, is still loving someone. So just deal.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of JK Rowling's. I just want to...borrow them for a while...:
/Thanks/ - thoughts
"Thanks" - speech
Fred
His warm breath caressed my cheek like a soft summer breeze, his mouth lingering there for but a moment, then moving down my neck where his lips gently brushed against my skin. A shiver ran up my spine, making my whole body tremble under his identical one.
"Ge-George," I whispered in his ear, "We...we shouldn't be doing this." I tried to make my voice sound like it was begging for him to stop, but, truthfully, I was yearning for him to go on.
"Why?" he simply questioned, his mouth continuing its exploration of every square centimeter of my neck.
"B-because!" I attempted to push him off me, but he only gripped me tighter. I gave up; but not in...yet.
"It's not right! We're brothers! Twins! Blood! It's just..." I could't bring myself to finish the sentence.
Finally, he pulled back, his green-blue eyes locking with mine. "It's just society wouldn't accept us, right? They'd just treat us like disgusting mobs of flesh, not even worth living, right?" Damn. He'd read my mind again. His rantings suddenly broke off, his eyes getting a far off look.
"George?" I whispered.
"You want jam, or peanut-butter?" he asked in a voice not his own.
"What?" I was totally confused.
"Can you not understand English? Sprekenzie English? Hello! Fred! Wake up!" A strong shove sent me flying off the bed. Bed?
"Ah!" I wrestled with the sheets, trying to fend off the attacking white ghosts.
Something grabbed my wrist, wrenching my body off the floor.
"What is wrong with you this morning?" Percy's voice was loud in my ears, bouncing around the empty space inbetween them. "I asked you if you wanted jam or peanut butter! You were supposed to be up an hour ago! Let's move! He sniffed, straightened up, and tried to compose himself. "Now, which is it?"
"Peanut butter and jam." replied my voice, except it did not emanate from me. Percy and I both looked towards the doorway where a sopping wet red head stood, dripping on the floor, with a towel around his waist, who had just read my mind for the second time that morning.
George.
"Well," said Percy, a little distraught that George had answered and stopped his torturing me. "Fine. And you?" he motioned towards my twin.
"Same thing. Duh."
Percy huffed, looking as if he was about to say more, but then thought better of it -seeing as it was two on one- and walked away, calling out the orders to mum in the kitchen. He would have to get back-up if he wanted to face George and me.
George and me; the thought swirled around in my head.
George and me.
George and...me.
George...and me.
George...and...me...
Which sent my brain swirling back to the dream, the one in which George had been...well, let's just say he was felling a little more than brotherly love between us. And I felt the same thing...if only it could actually happen.
Sighing, I boarded my mind on a different train of thought.
George had always been there for me. Always. And I for him. We were the Weasley twins; a package. If you got one, you got the other. We were never apart for more then mere seconds. Well, except this once.
We were 7; George had been invited to someone's birthday party...and I hadn't. At first, I was fine with it, I mean, I hardly even liked the kid. It was simple: George would go to the sleepover/birthday party-I wouldn't. So mum and I dropped him off at the birthday boys house, but when I went to wave goodbye, a deep panic filled me. I guess George saw it(or maybe sensed is a better word?) and he asked if he should stay. I swallowed the tears, and choked out that he should go, or else he'd be late for the party. He'd smiled, promising to bring back a piece of cake for me. Then, giving my hand a quick squeeze, turned his back, walking up to the neat little house with his gift. Mum and I went home, and I did my best to survive the night without my twin there beside me. I kept finding myself whispering quick comments to the air beside me, expecting to have an ear listening to them, but found none.
I thought I'd find some solace in the sheets of the bed we shared, but when I finally climbed under the comforter, I just felt even lonelier(obviously the blanket wasn't doing its job; it was supposed to be a comforter after all). At last, I gave into my tears, weeping into the pillow.
A while later, mum came in to make sure I was asleep, and, upon finding me there crying my eyes out, immediately called for George. He came home via floo-powder, and as soon as he stepped through the threshold of the fireplace carrying a plate of cake(he hadn't forgotten his promise), I was in his arms, burying my face in his chest, crying for all I was worth. When he had finally managed to get me up to our room and in bed, my sobs had subsided, but my grip on him had not let up.
"Hey, it's okay," his gentle voice whispered, "I'm back. I'm alive!" he attempted a joke, but for once I didn't laugh.
"I-It...it felt like you abandoned me!" a fresh flood of tears reduced me to a trembling mass of snotty, tear-stained goo, gripping my brothers neck like a lifeline.
Then, to my utter surprise and comfort, he'd kissed me. Just a small peck on the forehead, a comforting gesture, but a kiss nonetheless. I had been too young to really understand what a kiss meant, and everything George did, I did. So, naturally, I kissed him back, this time on the cheek.
Ah, such nice memories...
An abrupt shaking woke me from my reverie, and I snapped out of it to find George's hand on my shoulder.
"Hey. Hey! Freddy, common, wake up!"
I grunted, but lifted my hands to the ones he offered, and he pulled me up.
"Let's go! Don't wanna' be late, do ya'? What are you thinking about so hard that you can't at least take a shower you smelly hobo?" he said while throwing the towel from around his waist to me.
Little did he know I was thinking about, well, him.
He turned away, allowing me a short stare at his completely naked form. When mum said 'identical down to the last freckle', she was wrong, because I didn't see glitering smooth skin; strong, firm muscles; and electrifyingly blue eyes when I looked in the mirror. No, all I saw was a tall, lanky boy with a mop of red hair falling into his eyes. But when I looked at him...a strong, blue eyed man with red, flaming hair crowning his head-that's what I saw.
/No!! Fred! Shut-up, Shut-up, Shut-UP!! He's your brother! No, worse: he's your twin./ sighing in defeat, I quickly turned away, my face turning red from anger, embarrassment, and crushed hopes.
Before I could exit through the door though, George caught my arm.
"Fred? You okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned, which made me feel all the more guilty that my flushed face was over nothing.
"I'm fine." I replied, attempting a smile. "I'm just...tired."
Technically, I was being truthful. I was tired. Tired of hiding my love from George. Tired of pretending to laugh when all I wanted to do was hold him close. Tired of hoping -no, wishing- that my own twin returned my feelings. Tired of sleeping beside him every night and not being able to run my fingers over his well muscled chest, touch him, kiss him.
Yeah. I was tired.
But I brushed all those thought away.
No. George was a boy. George was my brother. George was my twin.
So I turned my back on him, walking towards the bathroom. I took a shower. Alone. We usually had our showers together, but lately...well, lately wasn't 'usually'.
When I came back to the room a few minutes later, George had no shirt on and his trousers undone. Man did he ever look hot.
"Green or blue?" he asked.
I quickly turned my attention away from his steamy body to the shirts in his hands. One was striped green, the other plain blue.
"Green." I decided.
He pulled the striped shirt over his head and threw me an identical one. Then he sat on the bed and waited.
I went to the closet and pulled out a pair of pants, not even bothering to glance over at my blood brother to confirm they were the same; I knew they were.
Dropping the towel, I felt his eyes on my back. Hurriedly, I pulled on some boxers and the pants, then threw the shirt on.
While pulling on some socks, I sensed his body come closer, then a gentle brush against the back of my neck sent shivers down my spine.
"You're advertising."[1 he whispered, tucking my tag in.
"T-thanks." I replied in an equally hushed tone, for a reason unknown. I glanced back at him and found him just staring at me, his fingers still gently pressed against my neck.
I stared back. Into those deep, blue eyes. Deeper then the sea. I lost myself in those eyes, but I didn't drown. No, I just floated away in the crystalline waters...
"Freeeed!! Geeeeeorge!!! Get down here this instant!!" my mothers high, screechy voice squawked at us from downstairs.
I didn't want to, but I broke eye contact, finding myself back in our room instead of swimming through that deep, blue sea.
"Coming!" George yelled, finally turning away, towards the door. "Are you?" he asked me.
I jumped up, quickly walking to his side. When I glanced down to put my hand on the door knob, I spied Georges crotch, his pants still undone. Without even thinking, I reached down and took the zipper in my fingers, gripping the bottom of the fly with my other hand. I pulled up, zipping it closed, then went for the button. I froze, finally realizing that these weren't my own trousers. I slowly looked up, terrified of what I would see on his face.
"S-sorry," I mumbled, pulling my hands away, "Your fly was undone." I was blushing profusely.
"S'okay." he said, brushing it off like crumbs from his shirt. "Let's go." Then he did something he hadn't done in a long time: he held my hand.
Leading me down the stairs (with our hands still clasped tightly together), he took us to the kitchen, dropping by the counter for our PB and J sandwiches.
"Well finally! I thought you two were dead by how long you took getting' down here! Now eat up. You'll need all your strength today."
"Huh? Why?" we both asked at the same time.
She huffed, putting her hand on a thrust out hip."Becaaause," she dragged out the word. "You said you would de-gnome the garden for me this afternoon."
"Aw mum!" we whined, once again at the same time, identical looks of disdain and discomfort on our faces.
"You promised." she snipped. "Now, go on out there and get em'!" shooing us away with her apron, our mother went back to cleaning out the kitchen.
I sighed, looking up at George.
"D'you think we could get-"
"And don't even think about tricking one of your brothers into doing it! Especially not Ron!" our mum yelled as we trudged down the hall.
"Damn." he whispered under his breath. "Oh well, we would have had to do it sometime anyway, right? So why not get it over with?"
Once again he grabbed my hand, and along with it my heart, making it jump up into my throat.
"Let's go."
zZz
A few hours later, George and I had only managed to get about 9 gnomes, and we weren't happy. On our hands and knees we had scrambled around for most of that time, and I was definitely sore.
George crawled over to the wall, leaning against it for support, and said to me, "Fred, I think we deserve a bit of a break, don't you?"
I simply nodded, crawling over to the wall myself and putting my back to it, allowing the frame to hold my weight.
We sat in silence for a few moments. Alone. Together. Then, of course, George broke it.
"Do you think we'll ever get girlfriends?"
It totally took me by surprise and I fumbled for an answer.
"Oh, um, ah...well, I'm sure someday we'll find some girls that will like us for who we are and, well, you know, we'll like them back and stuff, and, um..." I couldn't think of anything else to say. Moreover, I didn't want to say anything else or I knew I would lose control and blurt out something like 'Why would you want a girlfriend when you have me?!!?'
"But not anytime soon, right?"
I snorted, smiling at his unmeant joke. "Well, probably not..."
"Good," he turned to face me, my mirror image, my twin, "Then I won't regret doing this."
And he leaned forward and-
zZz
Fishi- Hehehe!! I feel so E-vil!! Leaving you with a cliffhanger like that...: Though it's probably quite obvious what he's about to do next...oh well, I can still torture you guys with not letting you see the next chappie for a while...Bwaha!! So, to speed up the process of me updating: Review!!!!! I live off of them!! Pls, I like feed back, and comments: ):D:P XD So just do yourself a favor and review: ):D Thnx!!
1- 'advertising' is a word my friend and I use for saying your tag is sticking out. It's quite genius really.