Warning: May contain cheesy stuff and corny dialogues. :D


They were the most excited when the Triwizard Tournament was announced, but their excitement was short-lived when Dumbledore announced that they must be seventeen or above to participate.

"Old coot!" Fred muttered.

That night, Fred, as usual, tiptoed to his twin's bed which was just next to his, after making sure Lee was snoring, and moved the curtains. George smiled at him warmly and shifted to make him space. He clambered on to the bed noiselessly, sidled closer to his twin, and cast a silencing charm, as every day, to muffle their soft chatter, and drew the curtains close.

"Georgie, like I said earlier, I'm not going to sit around and mope while the big baddies enter their names for the Tournament..." Fred began at once.

"What do you reckon we do?"

"Dunno...why don't you let your unused, rusty brain work this time, Georgie..."

George lifted up his knee and mock-kicked him in his balls, but, startlingly, it produced some kind of weird sensation in Fred. But he quickly tried to suppress it, whatever it was.

"Hmm...there's still seven more months to go before we turn seventeen...wish we'd turn seventeen right now..." George said, blissfully unaware of the fact that his twin was slightly flustered by his earlier action. "Freddie, I guess Ageing Potion might be a tad too obvious to others..."

Fred merely grunted in response. He was desperately trying to quell the strange way his body was reacting. He suddenly felt awkward at the way his twin's face was inches away from his, how his arms were draped around his shoulders, how his limbs were entwined with his. He felt panicky.

"Fred..." George whispered, trying to get him talk. But that only produced another fresh wave of weird sensation at the way his name sounded from his twin, the way his sweet, warm breath brushed his face. What in Merlin's undergarments was wrong with him? He fucking slept in his twin's arms every damn night.

"Uhm, I feel sleepy. Let's talk about it tomorrow, okay..." Fred managed to mumble, before disentangling his arms and limbs from his twin and turning his back to George abruptly and staring at the curtain which was grey in the darkness.

But George wasn't the one to be fooled. He was the other half of his soul. "Hey...how come you're sleepy so early? I haven't yet used my rusty brains, Freddie...don't you wanna hear my brilliant ideas?" he whispered fondly, and snaked his arms under his and hugged him from behind, spooning him.

Fred was going insane. He felt the sudden urge to turn and straddle his twin and smash his lips against his and grind his hips repeatedly against his. NO! What utter bollocks was he thinking? Was he fucking mental? He was...no...oh no...he was getting turned on by his twin, his mirror image, his own blood. His hands were suddenly trembling, and he broke out in a cold sweat.

George seemed to sense his anxiety, but that only made him cuddle closer to comfort him, only that it was having the opposite effect on Fred. "Freddie...what's wrong...?" he whispered into his ear, worry evident in his tone.

"N-nothing...just leave me, okay...I wanna sleep..." he said in a small voice. Oh Merlin, George, move those lips of yours away from my ear.

"Fred...drop your act, okay...you don't have to pull pranks on me...playing this I'm-gonna-die-right-now is getting a bit old, you don't have to tease me about my nightmares every inapt moment...", and he shook Fred impatiently, making his body rub against him, and the result that had on him made his mind scream OH GEORGE I WANNA FUCK YOU SENSELESS.

"JUST FUCKING LEAVE ME GEORGE!" he roared, and grabbed his twin's hands and threw them away from his chest.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" George sounded hurt and angry.

"Why don't you just shut up for fuck's sake?!"

"This is just too much, Fred! Why the hell are you acting so pre-menstrual?!"

Fred's reply to this was shooting up from the bed and hastily striding to his own bed, leaving George alone.

It was the first time they slept away from each other. Hell, it felt like sleeping in a barren, arctic land. The absence of George's sweet breath and protective arms around him and warmth of his body pressed close to him literally killed him. His mind inadvertently drifted off to the image of George leaning against a wall, smirking; the way his straight ginger hair fell across his forehead, reaching up to the base of his neck, his neck, that long, graceful, soft neck, a black mark the only blemish on his smooth, fair neck, his pink, supple lips, its soft curve, so much perfect than his own, the mischievous glint in his bright blue, wide, beautiful eyes, the freckles sprinkled on his long nose and thin face, he wished if he could run the tip of his tongue on each one of those freckles...

What the hell is wrong with me? He is my twin! Oh the way he looks after a bath, long, ginger hair dripping, towel wrapped low around his thin waist, his fair, creamy, smooth chest, the muscles rippling on his back, his broad shoulders...how many times did he unknowingly gaze at him, mesmerized by his mirror image.

NO NO NO!

Oh but the way he whispers his name, if only he'd whisper it throwing back his head and wanting him inside him.

Fred let out a low moan, desire clouding his rationality. He slipped his hand inside his boxers and rubbed it along his length, writhing up and down, biting his lip to suppress his moans. He threw his head back as he neared his climax, imagining his twin naked and moaning under him, and shakily uttered his twin's name as he came.


The next day, he avoided eye-contact with his twin, but put on the facade of joking and acting cheerful. George appeared sleep-deprived, and so did Fred himself. His twin approached him tentatively and asked him what the matter was with him last night, his face showing worry and concern. Fred simply waved it off with a witty joke and a cheery laugh, and asked him to bother no more about it, it was just one of his "girly outbursts", his frustration at not being able to come up with a foolproof plan to enter their names for the tournament.

He, George and Lee fooled around as usual, though George secretly threw him concerned looks, and Fred would look away the instant their eyes met.

Fred tried to occupy his mind on other topics as much as possible, to joke more than usual. He immersed himself in finding out ways to concoct an Ageing Potion which could make them pass through the goblet without detection of cheating. He would limit talking with his twin, the one who drove him crazy these days every time he looked at him, the object of his wicked desire, who sat only inches away shooting him worried glances, while he pretended to pore over the volumes of potion books intently. Each time George would touch him lightly on his shoulder, or try to hold his hand innocently, like they used to before he became so perverted, shivers ran through his body.

After that night, he refused to sleep alongside George. George appeared hurt and confused at his behaviour. He said in a broken voice, "Freddie...you do know that I can't sleep without you by my side...why are you doing this to me? Did I hurt you somehow?" A true angel he seemed while he asked this, so innocent and pure...unlike him; a demon, a twisted, sick person who wanted to ravish his own twin. Fred's heart broke into a million pieces looking at his twin's sad, beautiful face.

During the day, he was a clown; fooling around, making everyone laugh, laughing at everyone...

At night, he was a devil, lying alone and awake on his bed after casting silencing charm, wanking off, knowing that the one about whom he was fantasizing lied just a few feet away from him, awake and hurt, crying silently over him.

Fred pulled the curtains of his bed close that night, when someone suddenly grabbed his hand which was still clutching the fabric of curtain, and the person pulled open the curtain. It was George, with a pained and tired expression on his face. Fred realized with a pang that he had dark circles under his eyes; his eyes had a haggard look. It was a few days that he looked his twin in the eyes.

"Georgie...", his voice came out weaker than he intended. He glanced around their dorm room to find that Lee was sprawled awkwardly on his bed, his head resting on History of Magic book and drooling over it, already in deep sleep.

George kept looking at him, his gaze steady and his expression serious, still gripping his wrist tight. It felt like being under a laser scan. He then grimaced a bit, and then slowly sank down on his bed.

"Fred, what's this all about...you hardly give me a glance these days..." his voice was quiet and so pained, it broke Fred's heart, but he did not show it in his face. He arranged his expression to a carefree, jovial attitude. "What? Are you stupid? I ogle at you all through the day like you are my lover or something, really!" Fred's throat constricted when he thought of the double meaning of his statement.

To his shock, George seemed to be more infuriated by his reply. He clenched and unclenched his jaws, and gripped his wrist tighter, his blue eyes burning into his own blue of the same shade. Fred realized with slight fear that it was the first time his twin looked so pissed. He whipped out his wand, and for a fleeting moment, Fred thought he might hex him, but he simply flicked off the lights and pulled the curtain close, and cast a silencing charm. Now he couldn't make out his twin's expression in the very dim, grey light of the moon managing to enter inside through the curtain. He could just make out the way his smooth, straight hair shone silver ever so slightly in the dim light.

"Freddie...why are you acting this way?", his voice softened, and dropped into a whisper, "Its killing me...Please, Fred, tell me what's bothering you...how can you keep anything from me?" he loosened his grip on his wrist, and slowly laced his fingers with Fred's, the gesture alone spreading warmth in his palm, which travelled all the way up his arm and reached his cheeks, reddening them. He thanked the gods he did not believe in for the darkness.

"Acting what way? I'm perfectly alright, Georgie...didn't you see how I hexed the crap out of that stupid prat Malfoy today, or...or...slipped engorgioed spider in Alicia's cauldron..I'm in top-notch form, really, Georgie...you're being pointlessly paranoid, so shut it..." he struggled to keep his voice steady and cheerful throughout his rambling.

"Then why are you ignoring me so cruelly? Why don't you sleep beside me? I feel like ending my life without you by my side..." his voice was thick with emotion, and Fred felt as though a huge boulder was placed on his chest...it felt so heavy, it became so difficult to breathe.

Suddenly, George lit his wand, and their whole little enclosure was illuminated. George was looking intently at his face, his angelic face framed with his fiery red hair. "Wanted to see your expression..." George said quietly.

Fred quickly looked away, feigning exasperation, "You're a git, Georgie..." he mumbled.

His twin released his hand and cupped his face, "Look at me, Fred..." he whispered. His breath hitched, and his heart steadily picked up its pace. This is the reason why I ignore you, you git. He did not, could not, look at his face. "Freddie...please...look at me..." he tried to turn his face forcefully towards him.

Fred mustered up his courage, and looked at his twin's face.

It wore a pained and worried look.

Looking at his beautiful face, his intense, blue eyes; Fred felt scared, and ashamed of himself. He loved his Georgie, truly, madly, deeply; he could never stand to lose him, could never hurt him. If he'd find out how Fred thought of him, how badly he wanted to...devour him, he would be hurt beyond belief, he might slap him hard across his face, he might yell and scream and cry hard, and then disown him. He did not care if anyone else disowned him, but he'd die if his Georgie left him. He loved his twin too much to lose him.

His soul's other half seemed to sense his worry, and he caressed his face delicately to comfort him. Oh stop comforting me you idiot! This is what makes me a demon! "Freddie...tell me what's worrying you...please...I can't stand to see you so lost and confused..."

"It-its nothing...really...", his voice was a pathetic whisper, barely audible.

George sidled closer to him, and stroked his face lovingly, brushing away his hair from his forehead. Fred felt lightheaded. His heart was thumping furiously. His face was so close to his now, he longed to close the small distance between them and crush his lips against his, wanted to fist his hands in his smooth ginger hair. "Freddie...what is it, baby?" he asked tenderly.

"I...I just...", he struggled to breathe properly. He looked in his twin's concerned eyes, and once again felt scared that he might lose him forever, "Will you...will you ever leave me and go away, Georgie? Will you ever abandon me? Will I...will I lose you, my Georgie? I...I won't..can't stand if you'd go far away from me..." words tumbled out from his quivering lips in a pitiful whisper.

George looked scared and worried sick. His face was drained of colour. He cupped his face and said, "Freddie...why are you speaking this way? Are you mad? How can I abandon you? Have you been having nightmares like me?"

"N-no...I just...I sometimes think..." words failed him. How could he ever confess the ugly truth?

George stroked his hair, and whispered, "Freddie...I'll never leave you, never...you're my soul...I'll die without you..."

Tears welled up in Fred's eyes. "Are-are you scared of entering our names for the tournament? Are you scared that if we'd get selected one of us will die...?" George asked, desperately trying to find out the reason for his anxiety.

Fred said nothing. He snaked his arms under his twin's and pulled him close roughly, their bodies slamming hard, and hugged him frantically, burying his face in his soft hair, greedily breathing in his sweet scent he so missed these days. This time, he was the one who cried like a baby, while his twin held him close and caressed his back soothingly.

Fred woke up the next morning in his twin's warm embrace. His lips tugged up a bit in a small smile, realizing that it was the first time George left his bed and slept in his bed. It was always the other way round, though Fred didn't know why, but that was their norm. He pulled himself from his twin and opened the curtains. The dorm room was filled with a dark blue hue of the light just before dawn. He got up from the bed and looked at his twin, peacefully asleep. He smiled a bit thinking how innocent his twin looked while he slept, unlike how he was when he was awake, always smirking and laughing and eyes sparkling mischievously, although he missed that sparkle these days because of him.

He would stop hurting his brother from this moment, he vowed to himself as he clambered on his twin's bed and pulled up the duvet, and buried his face in it. What he needed was to spend some time with some girl, to quieten his stupid, raging hormones. He was a complete, utter git to spend each second attached to his twin, like they were Siamese. Did he ever rove his eyes around, look at the world around him? No! He always had his eyes glued to his mirror image, anticipating his reaction to some idea he might propose, or looking at the way he laughed at his joke. He acted like a sick, stupid, crazy boyfriend. He was a dumbass. Dumbass dumbass you freaking stupid dumbass. He mentally smacked himself repeatedly.


What do you think?