Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort
Pairing: F. Weasley, G. Weasley
Series: Harry Potter
Rating: T
Word Count: 1,692
Length: One-Shot, possible multiple chapters.
Warnings: M/M, Incest, Swearing
Prompt: Slash the Rainbow Challenge; Red-Sexuality
George couldn't recall exactly when he'd started to question his sexuality.
Maybe it had been when he was younger. Boys began to interact more with girls, passing the 'cooties' stage, but George had remained with the boys. Something about the girls didn't seem to click with him, and he never seemed to find them pretty in the same way the other boys did.
Maybe it had been when he began to get older. He didn't think girls were 'hot' or wondered what their hair felt like. He never accepted date invitations because he felt it wouldn't be enjoyable for him, even if the girl was nice, and he'd never really observed that. It'd seemed like a valid point at the time.
Maybe he'd only started recently. He had no burning desire to sleep with any of the girls like his classmates and friends did, and due to that, was inexperienced in relationships and absolutely innocent in anything regarding sexual contact.
He sighed, leaning back against the edge of the couch in the front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. From what he knew, everyone was asleep upstairs in the dormitories. He had time to ponder what the hell was wrong with him, for once.
George could see how blatantly obvious it was, after he had investigated it a few weeks ago. He was gay. He'd glanced secretly at different men in the Great Hall, mildly curious, and had been shocked to realize he'd found some of their features much more...pleasing, than a womans'.
Not to say they weren't beautiful, but he was almost completely sure they didn't have the necessary...parts, to induce a reaction from him. It was hard to grasp, honestly. So many years living with six other men in the house and he hadn't even realized this about himself.
George sat up with a start. He hadn't noticed, but what if they had?
He bit his fingers with a renewed vengeance, noting all the possibilities. Even if they hadn't noticed, they could have guesses... What would happen? Would they be disgusted? Any more thoughts were interrupted as he heard a loud swear and a thud, his heart jumping up into his throat, metaphorically speaking, of course. His head whipped towards the door, and he stood up, looking over the couch with concern.
The puddle of limbs and red hair moved, and his twin blinked up at him, cheeks flushed indecently. "Fred?" George questioned, voice low as he tried not to wake anyone asleep upstairs. Fred grinned at him, and as he stumbled to his feet, George realized with a frown that instead of just being his normal clumsy self, he was drunk.
He knew that Fred hated to drink in any situation without him there, and that only added to his confusion. Fred only did that when he was either extremely happy or unbearably upset. George had been about to walk over to him when he froze. "Fred, don't do that. Walk around." he spoke, tense and ready to jump and grab his brother if necessary. He wouldn't push it since he didn't understand what mood his brother was in; he had particularly bad moodswings when he drank and George didn't prefer bearing the brunt of that.
Fred brushed his comment off, beginning to climb over the back of the couch. "I-," he hiccuped. "I'm fine, George! Lighten up!" His foot sunk into the couch cushion, and as Fred went to pull his other leg over the back of the couch, it got stuck and he stumbled, landing forward and crashing into George.
They moved back only slightly, George having expected it. George's hand were clasped tightly around Fred's back, and he automatically stilled when he realized how right it felt, embracing him as he was. George quickly fixed himself though, lightly pushing his brother away from him and pretending nothing was wrong, when in reality, everything was.
Fred righted himself, grinning stupidly at George. He clapped his hand on his younger twins' hair, ruffling it slightly and grinning at him stupidly before quickly leaning in and giving him a sloppy, wet kiss right on the mouth. George went rigid, his back straightening, eyes widening and cheeks flushing.
Fred smiled at him, letting go of his shoulder and walking over to the stairs with only a few almost-stumbles, mumbling something George was shocked out of his mind at hearing. "Always wanted to do that..."
Before George could ask him what he meant by that or even manage to move his position, Fred interrupted him with a loud, "G'night, Georgie!" and he promptly dissapeared up the stairs. George stood still there for who knows how long, staring off into space.
Fred kissed him. Fred. Fred Weasley. His twin brother. Kissed him.
As the reality sunk in, so did what Fred said. He'd always wanted to do that?
George quickly snapped back into the present, dashing up the stairs as quietly as he could. He opened the door to the younger boys' sleeping area, spotting Harry lying awake on his bed, reading something by only wandlight. Harry's head snapped up as George crossed the room to him, being as quiet as possible.
"George?" he questioned, looking at him with concern. "What's wrong?" At that, George found he couldn't answer. So much was wrong, he didn't even know where to begin. He shouldn't be in the dorms tonight, no, no. Not even in the castle, if he could help it. He knew exactly where he could go.
His knees were knocking and his breath was shallow. "Please, Harry," he began, stopping and clearing his throat before starting again, his voice much steadier, though not entirely perfect. "Harry, can I please borrow your invisibility cloak?"
Harry looked shocked for a second, but nodded with an almost undecipherable look of understanding. He threw the covers off himself, reaching over on the opposite side of the bed and pulling the cloak out from underneath. He swung so he was sitting with his legs off the edge of the bed on George's side, handing him the cloak and the peice of paper he'd been looking at.
George automatically recognized it as the Marauder's Map. He whispered, "Oh, Harry, no, I don't-," he was abruptly cut off by Harry, who shoved them both in his hands anyway. "You'll need it." he said, tone firm and George shut up. He knew when to listen.
He turned around, sparing a glance towards his snoring younger brother, looking away as the disgust came back. He whispered his thanks as he exited just as quickly as he'd entered, missing the look Harry sent him as he left, full of concern and understanding that he wouldn't have wanted to question if he'd seen.
He found himself staring at the Marauder's Map as he creeped down the stairs, sneaking out onto the grounds. He shoved the map into his pocket as he began to cross the grounds, rain pouring down on him, soaking him through the invisibilty cloak without wetting the cloth itself.
He slipped on mud Hagrid's empty has he headed towards hut, just barely avoiding a faceplant. Hagrid had left to visit Madam Maxime with permission from Dumbledore, taking a two-day leave with no replacement. Anyone with Care of Magical Creatures in those days were allowed a free period, since Professor Grubbly-Plank was unable to step in due to buisness at the Ministry.
Hagrid had always favored him and Fr-
George cut that train of thought off before it could begin, disgust throbbing at the back of his mind. He'd always favored the pair of them, even going so far as to leave them a key incase they got in a rather large amount of trouble and needed somewhere to run off to.
George stood outside the door for a moment, rain pouring heavily on him as he considered whether or not he even deserved to sleep inside tonight. As he sent a look to the Forbidden Forest, he decided against it. As great as it would be to discipline himself so, he wasn't exactly sure of all the things he would find in there. Or what things would find him, more precisely.
George entered the hut, closing the door behind him quickly in case anyone happened to be patrolling. He sat on the dusty stone floor, the water and combined cold chilling him to the bone. He deserved this. He put his face in his hands, clutching the invisibilty cloak tightly.
He couldn't speak to anyone of this. Especially not Fred. He couldn't tell him or anyone else for that matter. What he felt for his own brother was against every moral code, and without a doubt, he would be disowned if his family caught wind, and more than likely abandoned. He stared at the wall, finally letting the self-loathing come up. He was disgusting, wasn't he? He was gay. On top of that, he was turned on by his own fucking twin brother. He pulled at his hair harshly, breath shallow once again.
Even if his brother had meant what he said about wanting to have kissed him all along, George knew he couldn't say anything to him. His brother was drunk; he wouldn't remember anything by morning time.
George sat on that floor most of the night, not even bothering to fall asleep. Even if he could have, he doubted he would. He deserved to suffer.
He could tell no one.