Disclaimer: I don't own these two, nor the broom shed. JK Rowling does.
Notes: Yes, it's twincest. You've been warned. On another note, this piece is drastically (perhaps.) shorter than my regular one-shots. My brain isn't up to normal function yet; I had surgery.
Anyhow… Read & review. Make a girl happy, eh?
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"You know," he whispered against slick skin.
"That fall was pretty hard. I should probably look-"
A laugh from the other made him pause.
"Don't make excuses to touch me. Just shut up and do it."
In response, freckled hands danced over the boy, removing uniform pieces and discarding them carelessly on the ground. Their mouths met, tongues pushing and exploring in practiced ease. As his hands went to begin the final disrobement, the other stopped him.
"Not here." He whispered softly, his mouth working magic against a jaw line.
"And why not here, of all places?" Fred's voice held amusement. "It is most appropriate, eh?" His hands pulled his brothers' body closer; the tension in the small shed almost palpable.
"While I do agree," George replied, his tongue and teeth soothing his collarbone now, "It's not the time. The broom closet, however ironic, would get us found if it started screaming like you have a tendency to do, love." He captured the protesting mouth, and pulled away after a minute. A whimper escaped Fred as George opened the door and stepped out.
"Room, now." He moaned as a hand caressed his cheek.
"As you wish." George said with a grin.