Disclaimer: Not a thing here is mine (save the indecent behavior between
the characters and the plot and the sexual innuendo). It's all the work of
the master-mind J.K herself *hasty nod* Though I am slightly nift at her
for not coming out with the fifth book yet. Oh well! Life goes on, right?
Anyways, that's enough disclaimer, I think I've exhausted it already.
Enjoy and tell me what you think of my shit. I'm always open to
suggestions.
Warning: Slash! If you have a problem with m/m that's not my problem! Don't blame me for writing it, I'm only a helpless fanatic. *sigh* Well, there's plenty m/m, sex, there could be rape, plenty of touching, and who the hell knows what else could be in store for us!
~*~don't hate me because I'm beautiful~*~
kisses
gHoSt WRiTTeR (aka Tom)
A Hand Beside Me, copyright 2002
Fred sat looking out the train window at the ever-changing scenery of English countryside, his head resting on his forearm, supported on the slim window-sill, his forehead and red tresses pressed against the windowpane. His chestnut eyes felt blank as he stared at a passing cow. He heard George sigh some way behind him, where he had left him reading next to the compartment door. George gently placed a white hand on Fred's robbed back and Fred heaved a sigh identical to that of his brother's.
"We're almost there," said George softly, as if trying to not rouse his twin from a deep sleep. Fred smiled into his arm. He was dreading this school-year for some reason, but George made it al worth it. He loved having his close companion to stand by him always, no matter what came about this year-or any year, for that matter. He loved his companion, above all.
Fred wriggled out from his position, his back aching slightly, so he could look into his brother's identical honey eyes. Though when he looked into them, in the delicate, creamy, warm-hearted, face of his twin, they were different than his. A difference only a twin could notice. It wasn't in the colour, or expression, which frequently mimicked his own. It was something deeper, something more beautiful and personal than his precious body beneath his black school robes. Something which Fred himself held close and dear, and not even he would dare share it with his twin, let alone George share it with him. Albeit he longed dearly and personally to know and caress this cherished part of George which he had never seen or touched before.
George's thin but rosy lips curled into a loving smile as he brushed fiery- locks out of Fred's eyes and pushed them behind his ear. "Did I wake you?" He purred, resting his hand on the base of his brother's neck, that deep secret behind his eyes pulsing in a dark, melancholic rhythm. Fred's longing to know it grew stronger, even though he had thought of this and longed for it for years now.
Fred shook his head lightly, as not to let the soft hand slip away. George slowly closed his eyes in a small bat of red lashes against his high, smooth, white cheeks. He was a beautiful creature, more beautiful than himself, as Fred thought. Fred wondered how no one noticed this enormous factor-how George was even more stunning and charming than the dull, reddish light of Fred. George was all passion and fire: a true Weasley, a true mark of family beauty. Fred silently shook his head in amazement. How had he never noticed before?
Fred let himself slip into the arms of his twin and rested his head in the nook of George's arm, the identical boy not stirring an eyelash, as if in a serene sleep, though his arms lifted to tighten around Fred's body and press him closer to his chest. Their breathing was identical, chests rising and falling in an exact duplicate pf the other. Even the heart beats pound silently on the same rhythm. Fred nuzzled his face into the shirt under George's open robe, inhaling the sweet, pure scent of his brother, longing to be deep inside him-his mind and body-wishing for this moment to never end, and closing his pale lids over his weary eyes, praying for eternal sleep next to this immaculate creature.
When Fred was almost certain he had obtained sleep, a sharp rapping at the compartment door jolted him to a sudden and harsh consciousness, and he lifted himself from the warmth of the other body next to him. A small, pleading noise came from George's throat in protest, and his arms pulled Fred in tighter, but he squirmed out of the grasp and sat, a bit dizzy, looking out the window and the pane of the compartment door, past which students were rushing to-and-fro, gathering luggage. They had arrived at Hogsmeade //already//. Fred groaned to himself at this.
George, who had been breathing steadily with sleep, opened his eyes groggily to see why his warm blanket had lifted itself from him. Fred helped him to his feet and they collected their suitcases with some effort, being tired and now in a grave mood from being disturbed in their peaceful slumber. Fred's dread of this year had been increased by the reality of finally having arrived . He had so enjoyed this vacation that he could barely endure to come back to this hell of studying and books and chalk- boards for another year. It was almost to hard to bring himself to step off the train with his brother at his side.
George could sense him hesitate at the train's threshold, and placed a firm but gentle and loving hand on Fred's shoulder. Without any words needing to be said, Fred had all the emotional support he needed: his brother-and his treasured feeling deep inside him, which now was his destiny to unlock, as was his own destined to be.
As they head for the dark, looming walls of Hogwarts, George's hand clasped tightly to his own, Fred smiled to himself with the drifting idea that this year didn't have to be so bad. After all, he still had his own secret, did he not? Fred grinned deeply.
Warning: Slash! If you have a problem with m/m that's not my problem! Don't blame me for writing it, I'm only a helpless fanatic. *sigh* Well, there's plenty m/m, sex, there could be rape, plenty of touching, and who the hell knows what else could be in store for us!
~*~don't hate me because I'm beautiful~*~
kisses
gHoSt WRiTTeR (aka Tom)
A Hand Beside Me, copyright 2002
Fred sat looking out the train window at the ever-changing scenery of English countryside, his head resting on his forearm, supported on the slim window-sill, his forehead and red tresses pressed against the windowpane. His chestnut eyes felt blank as he stared at a passing cow. He heard George sigh some way behind him, where he had left him reading next to the compartment door. George gently placed a white hand on Fred's robbed back and Fred heaved a sigh identical to that of his brother's.
"We're almost there," said George softly, as if trying to not rouse his twin from a deep sleep. Fred smiled into his arm. He was dreading this school-year for some reason, but George made it al worth it. He loved having his close companion to stand by him always, no matter what came about this year-or any year, for that matter. He loved his companion, above all.
Fred wriggled out from his position, his back aching slightly, so he could look into his brother's identical honey eyes. Though when he looked into them, in the delicate, creamy, warm-hearted, face of his twin, they were different than his. A difference only a twin could notice. It wasn't in the colour, or expression, which frequently mimicked his own. It was something deeper, something more beautiful and personal than his precious body beneath his black school robes. Something which Fred himself held close and dear, and not even he would dare share it with his twin, let alone George share it with him. Albeit he longed dearly and personally to know and caress this cherished part of George which he had never seen or touched before.
George's thin but rosy lips curled into a loving smile as he brushed fiery- locks out of Fred's eyes and pushed them behind his ear. "Did I wake you?" He purred, resting his hand on the base of his brother's neck, that deep secret behind his eyes pulsing in a dark, melancholic rhythm. Fred's longing to know it grew stronger, even though he had thought of this and longed for it for years now.
Fred shook his head lightly, as not to let the soft hand slip away. George slowly closed his eyes in a small bat of red lashes against his high, smooth, white cheeks. He was a beautiful creature, more beautiful than himself, as Fred thought. Fred wondered how no one noticed this enormous factor-how George was even more stunning and charming than the dull, reddish light of Fred. George was all passion and fire: a true Weasley, a true mark of family beauty. Fred silently shook his head in amazement. How had he never noticed before?
Fred let himself slip into the arms of his twin and rested his head in the nook of George's arm, the identical boy not stirring an eyelash, as if in a serene sleep, though his arms lifted to tighten around Fred's body and press him closer to his chest. Their breathing was identical, chests rising and falling in an exact duplicate pf the other. Even the heart beats pound silently on the same rhythm. Fred nuzzled his face into the shirt under George's open robe, inhaling the sweet, pure scent of his brother, longing to be deep inside him-his mind and body-wishing for this moment to never end, and closing his pale lids over his weary eyes, praying for eternal sleep next to this immaculate creature.
When Fred was almost certain he had obtained sleep, a sharp rapping at the compartment door jolted him to a sudden and harsh consciousness, and he lifted himself from the warmth of the other body next to him. A small, pleading noise came from George's throat in protest, and his arms pulled Fred in tighter, but he squirmed out of the grasp and sat, a bit dizzy, looking out the window and the pane of the compartment door, past which students were rushing to-and-fro, gathering luggage. They had arrived at Hogsmeade //already//. Fred groaned to himself at this.
George, who had been breathing steadily with sleep, opened his eyes groggily to see why his warm blanket had lifted itself from him. Fred helped him to his feet and they collected their suitcases with some effort, being tired and now in a grave mood from being disturbed in their peaceful slumber. Fred's dread of this year had been increased by the reality of finally having arrived . He had so enjoyed this vacation that he could barely endure to come back to this hell of studying and books and chalk- boards for another year. It was almost to hard to bring himself to step off the train with his brother at his side.
George could sense him hesitate at the train's threshold, and placed a firm but gentle and loving hand on Fred's shoulder. Without any words needing to be said, Fred had all the emotional support he needed: his brother-and his treasured feeling deep inside him, which now was his destiny to unlock, as was his own destined to be.
As they head for the dark, looming walls of Hogwarts, George's hand clasped tightly to his own, Fred smiled to himself with the drifting idea that this year didn't have to be so bad. After all, he still had his own secret, did he not? Fred grinned deeply.