One

"So you are seeing her again?"
George led in his bed, his twin sat at the window of their room in the Weasely home, looking down at dad murmuring something over a Muggle car.
Fred shrugged, raising his eyes to a different view, squinting in the sunlight.

"I think so"

George looked up at the ceiling. He hummed a response causing Fred to look at him.

"What? Don't you like her then?"
"I don't need to like her, she's one for you"
"Oh and not for you then?"
"No," he snorted, "nah, not my type"
Fred walked over to the bed with one last glance at this father. He sat down promptly and George looked at him.

"So," he yawned sitting up on to lean on his elbow. "what shall we do today?"
"I dunno, I suppose we should do a bit of studying. I can't be arsed with next year, more studying and crap. Its rubbish"
George sat up further and pulled the sheets off him a little in the warmth. He rubbed his eyes and then his face letting out a huge sigh.

"Hmm I know," he said looking down at the tassels of his pyjamas and reaching to fiddle with them stifling another yawn..

Fred watched as he did so, and suddenly slapped his hand away with a resounding tap.

He looked at his brother, and a smile traced his lips.

George swallowed his dry throat back, and looked back at himself, and the morning glory that already led prominent in his lower region.

"Oy, " George said looking back at Fred. Fred grinned then, causing George to bite the innards of his cheeks to prevent smiling back.
"What?" Fred said, his hand hovering like a hot sun over George's hard self. "I'm allowed, its mine as well you know..." he paused, and remembered that one evening when they were younger, remembering how it felt, and he lowered his eyes, "it has been in my mouth."
George let out a heavy laugh looking away rolling his eyes as he did so.
"Fred, "
"What," Fred said looking back at him, "Well you did put it in my mouth"
George tapped his hand fully away then and bought his duvet over him, slipping back down into the bed.

"BOYS!"
Fred sighed turned to the door.

"Fine," he then said standing. "Ill leave you to your solitude, make it a good one though, maybe over that girl I'm seeing,"
George sighed "I'll be down in a minute to smash your face in" he called in a sarcastic tone and listened as his brother left the room laughing.

When the door clicked shut, he turned to check he was alone, and reached under his pillow for his wand and with quick swish cast silenco onto the room. And then he turned onto his side, his hand into the hot depths and he took in one sharp breath, and released slowly.

George didn't arrive down for breakfast until an hour later by which it was lunchtime. He sat at the table greeting a late morning to his siblings and mother. "Where's Fred" he asked through mouthful of cold toast.
"He's gone out with that girl again," Mrs Weasely said huffily as she brewed a fresh cup of tea. "Why are you up so late?"
George shrugged, "where've they gone?" he asked,

"I don't know George!" she spoke louder this time, placing down the pot in front of him with a bang. "You two should be studying not romancing girls"
George sighed sitting back into his chair.

"Well tell him to stay at home then," he said looking out at the hot day, "I thought that's what we would do today mum"
He lowered his eyes then feeling a slight twinge of guilt as he called Mrs. Weasely mum. For the thoughts he had in his head of "revision" time were not ones she would take lightly at all.
George poured himself a cup of hot tea and looked out deciding to greet his father.

He turned to Ginny sat next to him mulling over her breakfast.
As he stood he slapped her round the hear causing her nose to almost go into her food. She tutted looking up at him, "what was that for?" she whined.
"George don't hit your sister, " Mrs Weasely sighed as if she was now immune to this behaviour.

"Dreaming about Potter are we?" he smiled picking up his tea.

"No," she said looking down.

He laughed looking out again, "I'm going to see dad,"

"Oh is that for him?" George turned to his mother who looked at the tea in his hands,
"No,"
"OH take him a cup would you dear?" she smiled sweetly turning for the teapot.

Outside, Fred was taking the short stroll back to the house upon leaving his new love interest. He shoved his hands into his corduroy jeaned pockets, lowering his head, in thought of his brother.

It seemed normal, although he knew such practices not to be. This didn't seem to worry him, although it worried George far greater he thought.

Of course it wouldn't happen again, He shook his head,

"Nah" he said to himself and thought of the age they were, and the state they were in, and of course, how long ago it was.

This had been the first time in 2 years that he had mentioned it.

He looked up hearing talking to see his father and his twin stood outside mulling over that bloody car, both drinking tea.

Immediately, he walked over to George.

"Alright?"
George looked at his brother stood next to him suddenly, squinting at them both in the sunlight.

Dad continued and sat in the car fiddling with the speedometer when Fred took George's tea from his hands to take a gulp. George watched him swallow, and turned away.

"How's the bird?" He said focusing.
Fred handed him back the empty cup and George put it on wooden work bench next to him tutting.
"Dunno really," Fred responded, "How was your morning session?"
"Like I said, I'm going to smash your face in." and he turned to him immediately bouldering into his brother causing them to both fall onto the floor, the kerfuffle caused Mr Weasely to look up and out the car.

"Boys!...boys!!!ugh...come on! don't mess about!.. Come and help your father!"
But he was of course, ignored.

Later that evening after a hearty dinner, Mr Weasely returned to the car, examining the interior, and Fred and George sat a few yards away, in the long grass, glad of the cool night air.

Ron stood over the open car door looking tired, almost falling asleep as dad muttered on about the greatness of Muggles.
George watched smiling slightly. Next to him, his brother leant back, the still warm golden faded straw beneath his hand. He absentmindedly looked down at his hand and intertwined his fingers into the dry stems.

"So when are you going to return the favour George?"

George stomach fluttered, he didn't blink for a moment, and then he lowered his eyes to look at his brother's hand, the slight rustle irritating him as much as the question.

"What now?" he said raising his eyes to the sun.

Fred cleared his throat gently, feeling his moth turn dry.

"When can I put in yours?" he smiled slightly at that, "your mouth I mean" and he immediately looked at his brother to see his reaction.

George shook his head. "Forget it mate"
His answer caused Fred to frown and his cheeks tinted red only slightly.

"Fine"
George turned to look down at him, and in turn, Fred looked up again. For a moment, George examined his brothers features, which to him, looked not much like his own. He knew of course they were identical, yet to him, everything seemed wonderfully different.

"We should leave school. " Fred said suddenly, "and do what we wanted. What do we need all that rubbish qualification jargon for?"
George knew why he changed the subject so quickly. The words on his tongue were too close for comfort. The pleasant twinge in his fingers to just touch his brother where he wanted to be touched became a little too intense, and he looked away again, grabbing a fistful of straw. He couldn't be sure that these feelings he had, were not just something he felt for inexcusable reasons.

Fred sighed loudly and led back onto the grass. He waited for some attention, but it never came.

As the silence went on it got darker, and George sat upright ready to stand, but too quickly Fred grabbed his sleeve and tugged it gently.
"Don't go yet," he said quietly, his grown out auburn hair drawn back from his pale face, his amber eyes wide and expectant.

George turned to be faced with such a sight, and he hesitated for a moment, before letting down his guard and leaning back with his brother.

"What's the matter then?" Fred asked looking at George.

His brother shrugged. "Nothing, just tired I think"
"So did you have a good one this morning?"
George sighed through his nose again. "Not really"
Ah! Finally, he plays.

"Oh? Why? Thought of my girlfriend?"
"Nope"
"Not that bird you..."
"NO" George interrupted eyeing him sternly. Fred smiled at the sudden eye contact.
"So who then?"

They watched each other for a moment, George's eyes darting from his twins mouth to his hair, and then to his eyes. He smiled slightly,

"You"
Fred smiled back. "Oh?" he then, to Georges amusement, realised in what context he was putting his words. "Oh.. oh right. Why?"
George still looked at his brothers face for a moment, examine each part of it, each golden eyelash, each movement his lips and eyes made, the welcome breeze giving his hair the slightest movement. He sighed again.

"I don't know, " and he managed then to pull away.

Fred lowered his eyes to his brother's hand, and without hesitation, locked his fingers with his, but George didn't move, he stared at the house, looked at dad and Ron, and then back at the house again.

"What's happening Fred?" he asked quietly.

Fred looked up at his brother, " I'm not sure..."

"It's making me feel strange and I don't know if I like it or not"
Fred said nothing.

"What would mum think?"
"Dad?"
"Ron?"
"Ginny?"
Fred frowned looking at George again, and he sat up slightly, their hands drifted apart,

"All I know is that I just want to be near you all the time, more so often then when we were younger"
George looked back at him, his heart ached slightly, at the thought of not being able to do this one day, the thought of his brother leaving just as Charlie did, for some new career or some woman, was top hard to contemplate. He couldn't.

"I know," he replied, and reached out to pick out a small strand of straw from his brothers hair. He flung it away, yet his hand did not return to his side, it hovered by his twins hair for a moment, and stayed still. Fred didn't move. Then, watching his own hand only, George smoothed his fingers into the thick silk hair that was his brothers, round to the back of his neck, where his hand rested.
Fred sighed, a slight deep low moan escaped his lips and he closed his eyes, his body rose to the touch, his skin crawled delightfully.

George felt himself quiver, and felt his stomach turn inside, his heart raced. "Fred," he whispered.
And Fred opened his eyes, immediately laying them on his brothers lips.
"BOYS!"
George gasped sharply and pulled away instantly to see mother over by the door at the house looking for them.
"Bloody hell!" he whispered frantically moving to stand, but to quick as usual, Fred pulled him down, harder this time, and George fell back onto the grass with a ouch.

All to suddenly Fred was over him, his face closed to his brothers, and he reached down to feel George's almost hard self, and as George raised his head and opened his mouth, Fred covered it with his hand, and closed his sore eyes, resting his forehead on his brothers chin.

George moaned hard into his closed mouth, his eyes rolled back and closed, and Fred began to lose his steady breathing.

He gripped his brother primitive bump harder, and just as he was about to slip his hand beneath the fabric, George pushed him off firmly, and stood, pulling his long shirt over his trousers and ran his hand through his thick hair before returning to the house without a backwards glance.

..continue??