Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN THEM BUT HOW I WISH I DID!!!!! HOTNESS!
First attempt at twincest or anything Harry Potter for that matter so don't poke fun!
He reached out in the darkness, across the small gap between the two beds. His hand gently pushed the fiery red lock of hair out of the round face. 'That beautiful face,' Fred thought looking over at George.
"Five more minutes Mum," George mumbled sleepily, turning away from Fred.
Fred smiled and swung his feet off the bed and stood up, shivering when his feet met the cold, hardwood floor. He directly sat down on George's bed. Just watching his twin sleep. 'He would hate me if he knew I liked him as more than a brother,' Fred thought sadly, resting a hand on top of George's sleeping form.
"Come on Fred! Let's go play a bit o' quidditch!" George yelled excitedly grabbing his broom and club and running out the door, nearly tripping on the rug.
Fred laughed and followed his brother, racing him to the field behind their house. They both arrived out of breath hovering in the air.
"I…..beat….you," George gasped triumphantly between breaths.
"That would be……..because you……were out the door…..first," Fred grinned trying to return his breathing to normal.
They both touched down on the ground and hopped off their brooms. Crouching down, George picked up a stick and began mapping out a play in the soft earth.
"Here," George began, pointing with the stick, "is where you will be when I hit the bludger to you. We will then hit it back and forth between each other."
George went on and on but Fred wasn't really listening. He was too busy staring at George's perfect lips as they formed the words. Staring at his twin that was, in physical appearance, an exact likeness to him but Fred thought George was better looking. Those perfectly chiseled features, carved by angels, that funny lop-sided grin, those gorgeous hazel eyes! Fred just couldn't stand it anymore. He did the unthinkable.
George was midway through explaining a very complicated dive when he felt a pair of lips press softly against his own. At first he couldn't think. No he took it back, he could only think of how wonderful those soft, tender lips felt against his own. He opened his eyes, wait……when had he closed them? He didn't remember, he had been too wrapped up in the kiss. He looked at the person who was kissing him. It was none other than his twin. His other half. His Fred. 'So I'm not the only one who felt this way,' George smiled inwardly, deepening the kiss. Fred was a bit taken aback but quickly recovered running his tongue over his twin's lower lip. George complied, opening his mouth a tad bit for Fred to enter. Fred gently massaged George's tongue with his own turning it into a French kiss. 'God, I love the French,' Fred thought as he placed his hand on the back of George's neck sending shivers down his spine. His twin thought the same as he reached up to run his fingers through the mess of red hair atop Fred's head. By definition a French kiss was a kiss with the tongue inserted in your partner's mouth but it's so much more than that. You can feel all the passion in this kiss. The kisses got hungrier as Fred explored ever millimeter of his brother's mouth. By this time they were laying down in the mud, George lying on his back. It began to rain and the kisses gradually got softer until Fred finally pulled away.
They both looked into each other's eyes, catching their breath. A smile crept onto each of the two identical faces. Fred rolled off George and stood up. He offered his hand to George who accepted it and was hoisted up moments later.
"I'm glad we were thinking the same thing," Fred grinned sheepishly.
"Me too," George replied thinking of how lucky he was to have his twin.
"More than brothers?" Fred asked opening his arms up, ready to hug.
"More than brothers," George agreed, hugging his brother tightly.
They stood there for several minutes before separating and picking up their brooms which had been carelessly dropped in the mud. The rain started to come down harder.
"Best keep it to ourselves!" George shouted over the rain.
Fred nodded and then turned his attention to their grimy clothes. "When mum asks how we got so dirty, just say a rough game of quidditch!"
George laughs and slaps his brother on the back and then hops on his broom.
"Last one to the house has to eat that bag of vomit flavored Bertie Bott's I've been saving!" But Fred had already taken off when he heard the word vomit.
Not wanting to kiss someone who tasted of vomit, Fred let the punishment for losing slid when George landed a few seconds later.
Before walking in the house they shared a quick yet sweet kiss. Stepping through the door they were greeted by Mrs. Weasley, who as soon as she saw their clothes, started screaming.
"HOW ON EARTH DID YOU GET SO DIRTY?! I JUST MADE YOU THOSE SWEATERS!" Mrs. Weasley yelled, her facing turning redder than a cherry.
She was still shouting at them when they had run upstairs and shut the door to their room.
"That woman never shuts up!" Fred exclaimed pulling off his sweater and throwing it aside.
George nodded staring at Fred's abs. Years of being a beater had done him well, and the fact that they were still glistening with water enhanced their beauty.
Fred grinned devilishly when he noticed George staring.
"Like what you see?" Fred asked innocently, taking a step closer to George.
George realized he had been caught staring and blushed, creating a horrible clash with his red hair. Fred laughed and continued to remove his mud and rain-soaked clothes. George also stripped down to only his boxers.
"Would you like to go first?" George asked, referring to the one shower in the whole house. (Odd I know considering how many people live there.)
"Only if you go with me," Fred grinned and then raised an eyebrow hopefully.
AN: Please review! Tell me if I should add more! I really need to know!