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Breaking the Silence

November 13th, 2007 (05:08 pm)

Title: Breaking the Silence
Pairing: Fred/George
Rating: N-17
Summary: Fred asks George to help him... 'practise'. Y'know, so he can be good and ready when he gets with Angenlina. But the more and more they practise, the more and more George starts to wonder if what they're doing has progressed beyond harmless experimenting...
Disclaimer: Rowling never said Fred and George weren't getting hot and heavy....



Fred looked George up and down, his eyes roaming seductively over George’s body. Fred prowled towards him, away from the locked bedroom door and closer to the center of the room, where George was standing nervously.

George gulped and wrung his hands together, darting his eyes from side to side. He reached up nervously to smooth down his hair, giggling a little to relieve the tension in the air. Fred grinned evilly and seized George around the waist, ignoring the hitched sigh that hissed through Georges teeth.

Fred purred and George swooned, his arms coming around Fred’s neck instinctively for support. Fred grinned at his twin and swung his body around smoothly, dipping him low to the floor, bringing their faces together and letting their lips meet gently. It was a few moments before George pulled away.

“That…” whispered George dreamily, his eyes fluttering closed “Was pathetic.”

Fred cuffed George on the side of the face and deposited him unceremoniously onto the floor. “What are you on about ‘pathetic’, you git? I made all the effort in that there, you hardly did anything!”

“I’m a girl. I don’t need to put in effort.” George explained, pouting and fluttering his lashes. Fred bit back a laugh- where was a camera when you really needed one?

George heaved himself up from his position on the floor, rubbing his backside and wincing. “See, the thing is Fred, you’re putting too much show into your approach, but not enough into the actual KISSING bit, and trust me, mate, that’s the bit that matters. No offence, but if I was Angelina, I’d be asleep by now.”

Fred glared at his twin and folded his arms across his chest. “I’d like to see you do any better, you arrogant prick.”

George grinned devilishly. “Challenge accepted!” He enthused, and without any further adieu, he swaggered across the room, seized Fred’s face and forced their mouths together. He was really only having a laugh, trying to sick his brother out, and he braced himself for a sharp blow to the top of the head at any moment, a slap to the face or a knee to the groin. The only thing George didn’t brace himself for was exactly what came at him.

Fred’s tongue.

Soft and velvety, swirling around inside George’s mouth, inexperienced and exploratory. George instinctively caught it with a tiny suckle, and blushed at the pleased little noise that issued from Fred’s throat, sliding its way into the kiss. The kiss that kept going and going and seemed very unlikely to end any time soon. It wasn’t until George registered the warm pressure of Fred’s arms around his neck that George opened his eyes and pulled away in alarm.

“Whoa… well… better…” George let out a weak chuckle as he swallowed a mouthful of excess saliva. Fred’s saliva. Sweet and syrupy, running fluidly through Georges mouth and down his throat. “See? What’d I tell you? I’m an expert, eh?” George said cockily, crossing his arms so Fred wouldn’t see how much they were shaking. Fred looked a little dazed for a moment, and nodded vaguely. There was an awkward silence. Fred was the first to break it.

“You’re good at that.”

George opened his mouth, a smart-arsed, arrogant reply ready on his lips, but nothing came. Fred took it upon himself to fill the silence again. “What’d you reckon of me?” he asked hopefully.

George tried to think of an honest answer, but at the same time, not wanting to be too honest about Fred’s inexperienced technique. As he often did, George settled on a joke. “Well… practice makes perfect, eh?” he teased. Fred’s face fell.

“So… you didn’t… you didn’t like it?”

George’s facial expression became somewhat similar to how a first year kid looks when they’ve been unexpectedly asked to recite the twelve uses of Dragon’s blood. In alphabetical order.

Not to mention, Fred was watching his twin carefully, staring at him with eyes surely too blue to be natural, and it was very disconcerting to say the least. George coughed, made a funny noise that sounded something like ‘Burh…’ and turned a brilliant shade of scarlet before a sharp knock on the door made them both jump away from each other in alarm, as though their intruder might guess their activities had they been closer to each other than at opposite ends of the room.

“Fred? George? Dinner’s nearly ready and Mum says if you don’t wash up this time, she’s going to serve your food out in the chicken coop from now on.” Ginny recited boredly from the other side of the door before the clumping of her footsteps faded back down the stairs. George made a jerky indication at the door, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish.

Fred seemed not to see Georges clumsy miming, but he barged through the door anyway, thundering down the stairs after his little sister for a good helping of cottage pie. George left the room slowly, staring at the staircase Fred had just descended.

Then, miraculously and for the first time in his life, George obeyed his mother and washed up for dinner. He even brushed his teeth, scouring away all that remained of the sweet taste of his twin.



After their little role-playing game, Fred was more adamant than ever that he should get it going with Angelina during the following year and with Georges encouragement, Fred had finally succeeded in asking Angelina out.

George mastered the almost overwhelming impulse to wolf-whistle and set off a show of miniature fireworks when she accepted his invitation to the Yule Ball, but a rare, stern look from Fred told him quite clearly that doing so would not have been the smartest course of action, particularly if he was intent on having a lengthy lifespan.

Later that night, as George replayed for the fifty-seventh time how much cooler Fred’s ‘big moment’ would have been with a firework or two, his own voice spoke out from the other side of the dormitory.

“You awake?”

Lee was snoring like an asthmatic bush pig, so George had a sneaking suspicion Fred was addressing him. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Pause. “I dunno if I should’ve asked Angelina to go with me.”

George sat bolt upright in bed, snapping his spine rather painfully as he did so. Wincing, he demanded, “What the hell are you on and where can I get some? No, wait. Don’t tell me. I don’t want it if it makes me as thick as you.”

George could almost hear Fred shrug. “I’m just wondering if I’m playing a bit out of my league, y’know. Maybe I should call it off, eh?”

George punched his pillow in frustration. Lee snorted in his sleep. “Damn it, Fred, what’s wrong with your brain? You’ve been dying to get it going with Angelina for ages. You made me find out her name for you when we were first years! You made me sign up for Quidditch just because she played! You made me bloody snog you for Christ sakes!” George stopped. He hadn’t meant to say that. But it seemed to be an unfortunate truth that members of the Weasley family often spoke without thinking. George inwardly cursed his gene pool as silence rang through the dormitory, but for the rhythmic rumble that was Lee’s slumber.

As usual, Fred was the first to speak.

“Yeah… yeah, sorry about that, mate.” Fred gave a shaky laugh as Lee grunted in his sleep.

“Don’t be stupid.” George said at once. The silence rang out again and each could tell the other was replaying that memorable evening in their heads.

“Was I- was I really that bad at it?” Fred whispered from across the room. George decided to answer honestly this time.

“Yeah. Pretty bad, actually.” He admitted, chuckling.

Fred didn’t laugh.

“Fred? You okay?” George stopped smiling and heaved himself out of bed, padding barefoot across the dorm over to his twins four-poster. “Hey, look Fred, I didn’t mean it- I was just pulling your leg, mate.” George tentatively reached for the curtain and drew it aside. Fred was on his back, staring stony faced at the ceiling.

“No, you weren’t.” He said simply. “I’m crap at kissing. Go on. Deny it.”

George blinked stupidly and didn’t say anything. “See. Can’t lie can you?” Fred said in a monotone and George bit his lip. Disaster bells started ringing in his head as Fred snorted bitterly. “I’ll ask Lee if he can take Ange for me. She wont care, Lee’s racked up plenty of experience. So he says anyway. Still… got to be better than me…” Fred muttered as he closed his eyes.

George gaped. This miserable, insecure lump was surely not Fred, his brother, his twin. The one who used to steal biscuits from the tin when he was two. The one who had snuck out of school with George and legged it down to Hogsmeade when they were eleven. The one who had this very evening shouted across a packed bloody common room for Angelina to go out with him.

George sighed. Fred was going to owe him big time for this. With a squelch of nerves and an odd, leaping feeling in his gut, George lowered himself onto the bed and pressed his lips to those of his mirror image. Fred’s eyes flew open in alarm and he made a surprised noise as George flicked his tongue over Fred’s bottom lip, once, twice, three times before darting it inside Fred’s mouth with a curious wriggle.

Merlin, George was good at that. He seemed so masterful, like he knew what Fred wanted and was only too happy to deliver. Fred pulled away from George as best he could when he was pressed flat into his bed with Georges heavy, oddly warm weight on top of him. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, caught between cautiousness and curiosity.

George smirked. “If you think I’m spending another six years watching you drool over some new skirt, you’ve got another thing coming, mate. We’re getting you practiced good and proper for Angelina till you’re beating her off with your broomstick and YOU stop acting like Moaning Myrtles mother. Now shut up and take notes, I’m not doing this all night. That’s Ange’s job.” He added with a wink.

Fred blinked in bewilderment, hardly daring himself to believe what his twin was offering. Then his face broke into a weak smile. “Thank you.” He whispered, cupping Georges face and pulling him into a rich, passionate kiss. George made an odd noise and pulled back, looking pained, as if he were working up the courage to say something.

“Oh, Fred.” He said throatily, taking his twins hands away from his face and staring deeply into his eyes. “The uvula is a very important organ… not a goal.”



George’s heart skipped with anticipation as he ascended the stairs to his dormitory where he knew Fred would be waiting. Fred had a date with Angelina tonight, and George an inkling he would want a quick brush-up course before heading off to Hogsmeade. Fred was happy to report that his great romance was well and truly on its way now, and with Georges assistance, Angelina was more than happy with Fred’s kissing technique.

As expected, Fred was lying flat on his back on Georges bed, and sat up expectantly when his twin entered the otherwise empty dormitory.

“I want to try something new.” Fred said, by way of greeting, as George locked the door.

“Don’t tell me. You’re going to follow my lead and try being witty, charismatic and devilishly handsome?”





“Shut up.” Fred knelt up on the bed and pulled George’s face towards him. George relaxed into the kiss instantly- Merlin, Fred had improved. Over the weeks, (or was it months? Time seemed faster than usual these days) Fred’s kissing had attained a whole new standard- he was both harsh and gentle, passionate and tender, he was confident and experimental all rolled into one and George wasn’t in the least bit surprised that his head was spinning when Fred finally let him up for air.

“Wow… we better save some of that for Angelina, eh?” he laughed, breathing a little harder than normal.

Fred ignored him. “So… I had this idea right? That we’ve been doing the same kind of stuff for a while now…”

“You and me? Or you and Ange?” George smirked.

“Me and Ange. And I kinda wanted to try something new tonight.”

“With you and Ange?”

“You and me.”


Awkward silence.

“I mean, I want to try some new stuff with her, but I just wanted to go over it with you first…” Fred trailed off and shook his head. “Forget it.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” George said hurriedly. “Just a little surprised, thats all.” George let out an odd noise that could have either been exasperation or amusement. “So, um… what did you have in mind?”

“Okay, first off, if you don’t like the sound of it, just let me know and I’ll shut up-”

“Shut up. Now tell me.”



“You asked me to shut up, so-” Freds words were punctuated by the unmistakable sound of a pillow hitting someone hard in the face, followed by the unmistakeable heavy thud of a body falling off a bed and onto the floor.

“Damn it, Fred, if you want me to help you out here…!”

“Okay, okay!” Fred snorted, clambering back onto the bed. “I want to do it with Angelina.”


Another awkward silence.

“Uh… look, Fred, to be honest, I don’t know much about… about that.” George admitted, flushing as he said it. Fred was also a brilliant shade of scarlet and blushed deeper still as he played with a bit of Georges bed sheet. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. I reckoned you’d tell me if… y’know…”

“Yeah, ‘course.” George mumbled embarrassedly. Fred exhaled and stood up.

“Look, George, I get if you don’t want to… y’know do anything, but I’m a little nervous and… well I’m also pretty clueless to tell you the truth, so…” Fred raised his hands, palms out and then ran one through his hair. He seemed very sorry he’d even bought the issue up.

“Right, okay Fred, I’m not chickening out or anything but… how exactly were you intending on practicing with… with me? I mean…” George gestured wordlessly at his trousers and Fred blushed so hard, it would have been very unsurprising if his ears exploded.

“I… I didn’t mean…” Fred faltered and bit his lip. “Lets just… lets just see, eh? Maybe you can help, maybe you cant, I just want to be sure, okay?”





“…come here, then.”

“…Thank you.”



George sucked a breath from the humid air in front of him. It tasted of sweet sweat in his mouth and he gulped it down hungrily, only to have it torn away again by the equally demanding body working above him.

Fred’s face was flushed and sweating, his chest heaving with effort as he pounded his hips against the living flesh below him. The living flesh that was gasping and mewling and grinding it’s ankles into Fred’s back, encouraging him to go faster and faster. Fred screwed his face up in an exquisite combination of strain and pleasure as he threw his head back, groaning throatily.

George resisted the temptation to push himself up with his elbows and lick away the beads of sweat glistening on Fred’s neck, just as he resisted all the other urges his body was screaming for him to give in to. The urge to claw Fred’s back with every thrust of friction his twin delivered. The impulse to bite at the rock-hard nipples rubbing eagerly against his own flushed abdomen. The overwhelming desire to rock his hips in tandem with Fred, (although his waist did give in to the odd buck, the occasional thrust) contributing to the delicious friction that was bringing George closer and closer to release.

But George was just a substitute for Angelina, and it was highly difficult to imagine her thrusting, biting and clawing at George’s twin. Come to think of it, it was highly difficult (not to mention unpleasant) to imagine her with Fred, in Georges place, period. Even so, he lay there, not as George, but as Angelina, as her stand-in, under his twin, his body rocking and shaking from the slides of friction Fred was forcing upon it.

Fred gasped, his eyes squeezed shut, his muscles visibly tightening like the strings of a violin. His cock throbbed in desperation for release and a fresh sheen of sweat broke over Fred’s body as his cock started to tingle in anticipation of his impending orgasm. George could feel the pressure threaten to explode in his own body, but willed himself to keep his eyes open so he could watch as Fred came.

It was beautiful, really. Fred shook, his eyes still squeezed shut as he shouted and slammed his hips one last time into those of his brother. George gasped as he felt his own orgasm pulse through him. He pulled Fred closer with his legs, still wrapped around Fred’s waist, shuddering as he came. Fred didn’t resist, but held his body against his mirror image until he could feel the last pulses of Georges orgasm splash against his belly. Only then did Fred push himself away from George and collapse next to him, fishing around under the pillow for a pack of Smokman&Silverscreen Cigarettes. Fred lit one with the end of his wand and offered it to George.


George shook his head. “I’m quitting.” He lied.


“What? I am!”

“It’s an after-sex smoke! It’s not going to kill you!”

“It will if we set the bed on fire.”

“Okay, fine.”

“…give us one, then.”


“Ahh! Git! You didn’t have to throw it!”

George winced as he patted out the smoking circle in his sheets. His twin fell back into the pillows with an expression that could have either been a dirty smirk or a relaxed smile. Or both. Fred was propping his free hand behind his head and George could see the dark patch of ginger armpit hair, still drenched with sweat. His cock twitched feebly and suddenly went still, as if it were waving a little white flag.

“So. How was I?” Fred asked casually, breaking the silence in which the boys had been smoking contentedly. George considered his reply for a moment while his happily spent cock ached its personal response to Fred’s question.

“Pretty good, actually.” George answered finally. “You did something different. You were rougher.” Fred’s face broke out in a broad grin and he punched the air triumphantly.

“Knew it. Knew you’d love it like that. Been planning that all week.” Fred smirked at George, who blushed scarlet.

“Yeah, yeah it was good. Excellent. A-Plus.” George hesitated. “So. You reckon you’re gonna try that on Ange, eh?” George turned his head towards his twin, who merely frowned and shrugged in response.

Fred never talked about Angelina with George anymore. George didn’t really blame him- he supposed Fred was starting to feel as though their ‘practice sessions’ went hand in hand with downright cheating on Angelina- but it sucks when your twin, your best friend, can’t even talk to you about the girl he loves, George thought sadly as Fred took a final drag from his smoke.

“So.” Fred flicked his cigarette away and turned to George again. “I’ve got another thing or two to run by you before Lee gets back. That is, if you reckon you can handle it.”

“Fuck you.”




Fred and Angelina’s anniversary.

Two months.

Two happy, love-filled shag-exhausted months.

Fred and Angelina looked positively radiant these days, although nobody else in the school knew why. The relationship had been quiet, something George would have never expected from his counterpart. He would have had at least expected a firework or two by now. Even a sparkler. Or even a flipping Christmas Cracker.

But no, Fred was indeed being ever the gentleman, keeping Angelina’s virtuous reputation safe and secret as their two-month milestone approached with sickening speed.

‘There isn’t enough puke in the world.’ George thought bitterly as Angelina tossed her stupid, braided hair and laughed with Katie Bell. Katie had once held Georges interest, but seeing her laugh with Angelina made George want to slap himself silly for even thinking of it. They were giggling and talking secretively and George suspected Angelina was informing her best friend of tonight’s arrangements with Fred. How sweet.


The door to the common room opened, and two figures fell inside. Lee and Fred tumbled over each other, laughing and shoving. Fred clambered to his feet and scanned the room, frowning a little in concentration, and his eyes lit up when they spotted George folded grumpily in an armchair facing away from the fire. Fred bounded up the stairs to the dormitories and George followed.

Once upstairs, Fred immediately began to disrobe. George cocked an eyebrow as Fred watched George expectantly.

“Uh… am I missing something? Do I have something on me?” Fred asked peering down his body.

“Hell no to the first question and ‘looks like it’ to the second question.” Both Georges eyebrows shot into his hair as he stared at Fred’s straining groin, pointing right at him. “Bit eager, are we?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess.” Fred smiled sheepishly at his twin and folded his arms across his chest. “So what keeping you then?”

“Shouldn’t we… I mean, don’t you think we shouldn’t be doing this… today?” George asked pointedly.

Fred blinked stupidly and George groaned. “You forgot, didn’t you? Fred, you dingbat, you have just single-handedly confirmed each and every stereotype that depicts the average male specimen as a selfish, randy, inconsiderate wanker.” Fred blinked again. “Fred, don’t you know what today is???”

Fred’s eyes clouded in confusion. “What, is it our birthday?” Fred asked, clearly racking his brains. “Um… Christmas? No, that was months ago… Easter? Blimey, George, we could be here all day…”

“Your anniversary!” George bellowed, and Fred tumbled back onto Lee’s bed in shock. “You stupid great prat, forgetting an anniversary? She’s going to kill you, mate, and let me tell you, it will NOT be done with mercy!”

Fred blinked a couple of times dazedly as he mouthed the word ‘anniversary’. “Oh yeah…” he said, mostly to himself, a look of comprehension dawning.

George nearly pulled a chunk of his hair out in frustration. “Please tell me you have some big thing organized, Fred, please!”

“Relax, Georgie, settle down, eh? Look, tell you what, I’ll take her down to Hogsmeade and just IMPROVISE. Make it look as if I’ve got this whole thing planned out. I’ll think on my feet. If there’s one thing we Weasleys are great at, it’s thinking on our feet, right?” Fred smirked, gave George an affectionate punch, turned and swaggered out the door.

George smirked at the staircase his twin had just descended.

‘Three, two, one…’ George counted in his head before a scream sounded from downstairs and Fred bolted back up into the room, his face brilliant scarlet and his hands covering his genitals, as he immediately started beating the shit out of his twin who was too helpless with mirth to try and stop him.



George lay awake, his curtains drawn back, staring at the bed opposite his.

He knew it was empty, but it helped to stare.

George reached for the clock on his bedside. It was gone midnight and George groaned audibly. He knew Fred and Angelina were shagging right now, he just knew it. Or they’d already done it and were now lying awake, holding each others sweat-drenched bodies in some Hogsmeade hotel room, whispering sweet nothings into the darkness.

George hissed as a stinging pain shot through his hand. He hadn’t realized he’d been digging his nails into his palms, and he watched in bewilderment as a tiny smear of blood issued from the curved mark on his hand.

Cursing, he headed down to the common room with the intention of fetching a bandage, but found himself instead heading out the portrait hole, into the darkened hallways with no purpose but to walk, unseen and unheard. It helped George think, knowing that he could creep through the halls of Hogwarts, like a shadow, safe from detection. It made him feel safe. Surreal.

George turned a corner and froze at the sight that confronted him. Angelina, braids swinging though the air like brown snakes, moaning softly as a pair of lips pressed against her neck with an obscene sucking noise.

A pair of lips that did not belong to Fred.

A pair of lips that, in actual fact, belonged to Lee Jordan.

“What the fuck is going on here?” George whispered dangerously, and the couple broke apart with a terrified squawk.

“Christ, George, I thought you were Filch. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Angelina giggled while Lee exhaled a shaky laugh. George returned neither smile as he surveyed the couple from underneath a cold glare.

“It’s your fucking anniversary!” George spat at Angelina. Her eyebrows jumped into her hairline while Lee’s face transformed rapidly into a shocked expression, which soon darkened with anger.

“Yeah. It is.” She replied coolly while George slowly turned purple. “So what?”

So what? SO BLOODY WHAT??? “Where’s Fred?” he snarled. Angelina’s face clouded with confusion.

“Fred? I have no idea. Why isn’t he with you?” She asked, while Lee’s glare softened and imitated Angelina’s look of utter bewilderment.

“Fred… you… its your ANNIVERSARY!” He nearly screamed. Lee and Angelina both made frantic shushing gestures at him, staring up the corridor in joint terror. “You’re cheating on Fred on your ANNIVERSARY?!” George ignored the sick swoop in his gut that came with the knowledge that, until George had prevented it, Fred hadn’t been terribly opposed to cheating on Angelina the day of their anniversary either.

“What the hell?” squawked Lee, while Angelina rolled her eyes.

“What on earth are you talking about, George? Are you trying to be funny? Well done, very amusing.” She sighed and turned to Lee. “Relax, love, I’m not sneaking about with Fred.” She kissed him lightly on the nose, turned back to George and started when she saw he was gaping at her.

“Not… not going out with… but… haven’t you been dating him for months? I mean, I know you two wanted to keep it secret, but…”

“We did want to keep it secret…” Lee muttered crossly, but Angelina shushed him.

“We went to the Yule Ball, which I’m sure you know about, but dating? Fred and me?” Angelina snorted. “Are you kidding?”

George felt his insides flare with anger as he readied himself to defend his brother. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he snarled.

Angelina stopped laughing and raised her eyebrows again. “Nothing. I just… I mean, the ball was fun and everything, I just got the impression Fred only asked me as a friend, that’s all.”

“What makes you think that?” George was genuinely confused now. Lee cleared his throat and snuck a quick look at Angelina, who was smirking coyly.

“Well, he set us up halfway through the evening, didn’t he?” Lee finally burst out. “He knew I’d fancied Ange since first year, he was always was trying to get us together.”

“Lucky me, eh?” Angelina cooed. The pair looked at each other bashfully and grinned.

“But then why-?” George felt his heart stop.

“Why what?”

George’s blood turned icy and froze in his veins as a look of utmost horror fell upon his face.


Fred wasn’t with Angelina… he was never with Angelina… he never even LIKED Angelina…

“George?” Lee looked at Angelina nervously. “Look, we don’t… I mean, if its alright… would you mind keeping this to yourself?” He indicated himself and Angelina.

George tried to slow the rapid spinning of his head as he felt himself answer with a voice much to calm to be his own. “Yeah. Sure. No worries, mate. Sorry.”

Lee smiled, clapped a hand on Georges shoulder and lead Angelina away by the hand to find another secluded corridor in which they could wrap off their anniversary nicely.

George stood in the middle of the hallway, his eyes and mouth wide open, replaying the conversation over and over in his mind, trying to trick himself into believing he had misunderstood, or that Angelina had lied. But her story made sense. For the first time in such a long time, things finally made sense.

Which left one question.

If Angelina was with Lee…

Where was Fred?



Fred’s arse was numb.

He’d been sitting here so long, he was sure the floor of the broom closet had by now melded into the shape of his buttocks.

‘What a way for me to make my mark on this school.’ Fred winced as he shifted his weight around into what he hoped would be a more comfortable position. His left arse-cheek immediately started to tingle with pins and needles and Fred wished he had a watch so as to check the time. He felt as though he’d been sitting in this dank broom closet for hours. Which, come to think of it, he probably had.


Fred looked up, startled, and then winced against the sudden burst of light. A wand was pointing in his face and Fred felt his guts clench over in cold, paralyzing fear.


“So. How’s your big date going?”

Not Filch.

Worse than Filch.


“…Hi.” Fred raised a hand and waved at George sheepishly.


Awkward silence.

As usual, Fred was the one to break it.

“How did you find me?” George waved a blank sheet of parchment in his face. Fred had an idea that until very recently, it had been mapped out with secret passageways and crawling with labeled, moving dots.

“Borrowed it from Harry.”


“Yeah, of course, what do you take me for, some kind of common thief? Mind you, I’ll need to give it back before he notices it’s missing.”

The twins grinned at each other.

“So… Angelina and Lee all this time, eh?” George snorted, sitting down beside Fred and extinguishing his wand light. “Fancy that. I always thought it was you, the way you kept banging on about her.” It all was clear to George now. Fred hadn’t been badgering George about Angelina so that HE could date her. All Fred’s efforts in getting information about Angelina had been for Lee.

There was only one thing that needed explanation, nay, conformation.

“So… why exactly have we been doing… what we’ve been doing all this time?”



The broom cupboard was dark, but George could sense the tears prickling at Fred’s eyes.


Fred didn’t break the silence.

So for once, George did.

“I love you, Fred.”

Fred made an odd noise that George would bet his life was a sob as he put an arm around his twin.

“I’m sorry, George, I’m so sorry, I just…”

“I know.”

“Oh God, George, this is all my fault, I lied, I got you to… I made us… oh fuck…”

“I know. Its okay.” Fred went quiet as George pressed his lips against those of his twin. Fred sighed a mixture of pain and relief as he reached up blindly to stroke Georges face.

“I love you, George, I love you so much.”

“I know.”

“You’re a real Mr. Know-It-All tonight, aren’t you?” Fred smirked weakly into Georges shoulder.

“I know.”

“It’s dead annoying, actually.”

“I know.”



“I’m going to fuck you senseless right here in this broom closet.”

George grinned. “I know.”

Fred groaned in either frustration or arousal, it was hard to tell.

It was also hard to care, because in the next moment, Fred had his mouth pressed against George and was kissing him. Really, truly kissing him, not, as George had always thought, as a substitute, as Angelina’s stand in, but as George. The one Fred wanted to kiss.

George moaned in sweet relief and kissed back, bringing his arms around Fred’s neck, caressing the nape with broom-calloused fingertips. Fred’s tongue was sliding eagerly past George’s lips, licking at every bit of George’s mouth he could find, and George sucked back eagerly. He had improved so much, it was insane to even compare him to that boy so many months ago, the one with the clumsy snogging in a messy bedroom.

“Oh fuck, George…” Fred moaned, breaking away, tilting his head back and letting George plant wet kisses on his face and neck.

George closed his eyes and sucked hard at Fred’s lovely, long neck, tonguing hard at the pulse point, and listening intently to Fred’s groans of approval. The broom closet was dark, but George suspected his assault on Fred’s neck had left behind a splotchy purple circle in between the sprinklings of ginger. Smirking, George licked the spot he had just marked and proceeded to mark a trail of love-bites down Fred’s body, unbuttoning the shirt as he went.

George paused at Fred’s lower chest, which was rising and falling rapidly as Fred struggled for enough air. George rested his face against the radiating warmth of Fred’s chest and listened delightedly to the heavily thudding heartbeat. George planted butterfly kisses all the way down Fred’s ribs, loving the way the flesh jumped and prickled at the light, teasing touches. Fred’s belly quivered at the feel of Georges mouth against it, and he couldn’t help but whimper a little as George pulled his wonderful, obscenely talented mouth away from Fred’s flushed abdomen.

George smirked. “Relax. I’ll be back in a sex, whoops, sec.” Fred groaned, either at Georges terrible joke, or at the feel of Georges fingers now lightly brushing his clothed groin. Fred’s cock was throbbing with need by now, and George could feel the heavy beat even through the fabric of Fred’s pants. With a mischievous wink, George pressed his mouth to Fred’s groin, pinched the zipper with his teeth and pulled, staring up into Fred’s face as he did so. Fred let out a tortured moan, clutching at Georges hair and then sighed with relief as George released his heat from its fabric constraints.

“Mmm. You’re gorgeous, you know that?” George whispered against Fred’s cock, lightly brushing the head with his moving lips.

Fred quivered at the feel of George’s lips on his cock, but still managed to flip back, “Only as gorgeous as you. We are identical, just in case you haven’t looked in a mirror lately.” Fred stifled a hiss as George gently traced the tip of his tongue in patterns over the head of Fred’s cock. “Cant say I blame you, though. I wouldn’t want to look in a mirror if I had that for a face.”

George paused in tonguing Fred’s cock and smirked. “You just admitted that you have my face, moron.”




“Shut up.” Quite suddenly, George closed his mouth wetly around Fred’s cock, and Fred buckled, the intensity of the sudden sensation knocking him quite dizzy for a moment. George smirked as best he could when his lips were stretched tight over Fred’s prick, as he sucked hard up the entire length, before descending upon Fred’s shaft again.

Fred’s eyes slid out of focus as a fresh wave of delicious disorientation overtook him. He let out a quavering moan and leant back against the wall, panting as he tried to clear his head. Which was virtually impossible when he had George rolling his tongue over his sensitive skin, teasing Fred with every delightfully dirty trick in the book, and eventually Fred gave up and simply concentrated on enjoying Georges ministrations.

George was hard, harder than he’d ever been in his life. He had not yet released his cock, and it was protesting most insistently, pressing against the zipper of his own trousers in a way that was quite painful. George hissed an impatient sigh through his nose, the small, warm blast of air making Fred’s belly quiver, as George undid the zip of his own trousers.

The tearing sound of Georges zip undoing reached Fred’s ears over the wet sucking noise issuing from around his waist. “Wait…” Fred muttered, pulling George away from his thrumming prick by the hair, an effort seemingly as difficult as pulling up carpet. George frowned, confused, then inhaled excitedly as Fred clumsily pulled George into a standing position and attempted to arrange their bodies in the dark.

Grinning, George cupped Fred’s bum and hitched him up onto his waist, holding Fred in place with his strong, muscled arms. Fred made a delighted noise as he clawed at George’s back and tightened his thighs around Georges waist so he wouldn’t fall. George leant heavily against Fred, pushed him hard into the wall with his weight and Fred moaned at the feeling of all those Quidditch muscles pressed against his flesh.

George swore impatiently as he wriggled his hips, trying to bring his cock align with Fred’s. Fred pulled a hand away from Georges back to assist him, and George hissed appreciatively when he felt Fred’s hand guide him into place. He groaned happily at the familiar feeling of Fred’s cock against his own and, grinning at his twin in the dark, George initiated the beautiful, terrible dance that was the sensual rocking of their bodies.

Fred tilted his eyes back and moaned at the tortuously slow rhythm, grinding his hips against his brother in an effort to spur him on. George smirked at Fred’s desperation and nipped gently at his lips.

“Patience, love…” He murmured, indulging Fred with a harsh thrust. Fred yelped at the sudden slide of friction, and clutched at George’s back, pressing his mouth urgently against Georges, as though his twins lips could sooth the frantic thrumming of his blood, rather than increase it. George groaned as he rocked heavier, his speed gathering gradually as he caressed Fred’s bum with his hands. Smirking slightly as he did so, George slipped a finger between Fred’s buttocks and ran it swiftly over his opening.

Fred made another surprised cry in Georges mouth and pulled away in shock. George hadn’t just intentionally put his finger THERE? But he had, and he was, and he was RIGHT NOW running it in neat little circles against the soft whorl of flesh, puckered tight against the finger gently trying to breach it. Fred whimpered, feeling a little embarrassed despite his heightening arousal -where the hell did George learn this stuff anyway? Fred groaned and pressed his face against Georges shoulder. George chuckled.

“Feel good then?”

“Mmm…” Fred murmured absent-mindedly, far too preoccupied with trying to rock against George’s hand and George’s hips simultaneously.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.” George smirked, pulling his finger away slightly. Fred moaned. “What did you say?”

Fred whimpered incomprehensively as George pressed the tip of his immobile finger against his entrance. Fred twisted his hips in a last, valiant attempt to impale himself, before bursting out in frustration “For fucks sake, George, it feels bloody terrific, don’t stop you bastard!”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so?” George said brightly as he quite suddenly slipped a finger inside Fred’s body.

Fred hissed as the finger pierced him, easing its way into a place Fred would never have thought anyone would ever want to venture. The finger twisted and hooked inside of him, brushing something tapped within and Fred howled at the unexpected pleasure. George pressed a hand against Fred’s mouth (not, Fred realized with a stab of relief, the one currently involved with areas of Fred’s body he would personally like to keep as far away from his mouth as possible).

“Quiet now…” George whispered, pressing his lips against Fred’s again. George caught all the sounds, the cries, the whimpers and the groans as he kissed his brother, thrusting his hips and his finger all the while. Fred was more or less responsible for holding himself in his precarious position now, and his thighs were wrapped around George so tightly it was a wonder they hadn’t dropped off. Fred’s back cracked with every thrust of Georges hips, his face burned red with every delicious twist of Georges finger, and he blushed deeper still as George added a second.

George pulled away from Fred as his thrusts became quicker and more urgent and Fred’s guts tightened in anticipation as he sensed George’s orgasm fast approaching. Sure enough, George started frantically twisting his fingers in every possible way (and some ways which surely shouldn’t be possible unless one is double-jointed) until he had bought Fred teeteringly close to the edge with him.

“George…” Fred started precariously as various parts of his body started to tingle. Shockwaves pulsed though him as he shouted his relief for the whole damn castle to hear. “George! Bleeding Bloody Christ, GEORGE!” Fred howled as he threw his head back and slammed it into the wall behind him.

White spots burst in his blank vision, and Fred wasn’t sure if that was due to the solid brick that had just struck the back of his head, or because of the intensity of the orgasm now pulsing heavily through his cock. Fred suspected the latter, and cried George’s names to the heavens one last time as the final pearly rope issued from Fred’s cock. Fred shuddered, pale and spent, the rivers of sweat on his skin already starting to cool his body as he slumped, defeated against the cool brick behind him.

At the sound of his name bursting with such passion from Fred’s lips, George came, came hard, harder than he’d ever done before. He squeezed his eyes against the darkness and envisioned Fred coming above him, his muscles tightening, his eyes screwed shut in an expression close to pain and his lips pulled back over his teeth like he always did.

At that image, George’s orgasm finished with a final wavering cry. Although his cock was spent, George continued to shudder violently for a moment or two as his cock resolutely trembled in a valiant attempt to maintain its salute. But what goes up must come down, and George collapsed with a loud, breathy noise that could have either been a gasp or a sigh as he slumped down onto the broom closet floor, Fred still wrapped around him. Both boys lay in divine exaustion, recovering in the dark, night-silence the only sound in the room but for Fred and Georges debauched panting.

As was his honorable tradition, Fred broke the silence.

“You’re on my leg.”

“You’re on my arm.”

“You’re on parts of my body I’m too polite to mention.”

“You mean like this one?” George smirked as he withdrew his fingers from Fred’s arse with a wet noise. George fished for his wand and cast a quick cleaning spell over his hand. “Should we-?”

“Get going? Yeah, I reckon so, other wise Filch’ll find us and…”

“…have a heart attack.”

“I was gonna say ‘want to join in’ but hey…” Fred smirked as he pushed open the door.

“Ga-ah! Bad mental image! Jesus, Fred, what a way to kill the romance of the evening!”

Fred stopped at the broom closet door. He turned slowly to face George, pushing the door shut as he did so. George heard the lock click into place and gulped nervously.

Fred looked George up and down, his eyes roaming seductively over George’s sweaty, still-flushed body, over the unbuttoned trousers and tousled hair.

Fred prowled towards him, away from the locked closet door. George reached up nervously to smooth down his hair, giggling a little to relieve the tension in the air. Fred grinned evilly and seized George around the waist, ignoring the relieved groan that burst forth from George’s lips.

Fred growled and George moaned, his arms coming around Fred’s waist so he could carress Fred’s bum. Fred grinned at his twin and melded their mouths together, kissing the life and soul out of George, licking at his lips, his tongue and every other part he could reach. His fingers were in Georges hair, pulling George closer, further, deeper than George could have ever imagined as the kiss went on and on. George’s head span, his muscles slackened and his eyes melted in their sockets. False colors danced in Georges vision as he lost himself in the sweet, sweet taste of Fred’s kiss.

George pulled away.

“That was…” George sighed dreamily, his face glazed with a hidden smirk. “Pathetic.”

Fred smiled and dipped his twin low to the floor. “Well then. Let me see if I can do better.”


Posted by: playful_whisper (playful_whisper)
Posted at: February 14th, 2008 06:10 am (UTC)

*claps* Oh my goodness! Another absolutely, amazingly, beautiful story! I liked how you ended it similarly to how you started it. I honestly loved the whole premise of Fred pretending to like Angelina and I thought it was cute when he cried and George comforted him. Oooh a broom closet, eh? And though it was early on in the story, I really liked this line, "“See? What’d I tell you? I’m an expert, eh?” George said cockily, crossing his arms so Fred wouldn’t see how much they were shaking." I don't know why I liked it but I just did. I read your Fred/George/Snape story and I wanted to read more of your work. You truly describe things beautifully and I'm really able to picture everything. Honestly, it's because of you that I now have a fetish for red hair...and twins...You definitely have a talent for twincest! And I love twincest. Once again, great job!

Posted by: k8 matty (k8matty)
Posted at: February 14th, 2008 09:54 am (UTC)

YAY! THANK YOU! You're the first person to comment on the recently added stories and I feel loved ^_^

And thank you, I do love to write twincest.


(Deleted comment)
Posted by: k8 matty (k8matty)
Posted at: May 1st, 2008 12:58 pm (UTC)

Oooh, good luck on the exam *thumbs up*

*giggles madly* fancy writer terms...

Posted by: one_ear_weasley (one_ear_weasley)
Posted at: June 12th, 2008 09:17 am (UTC)

lmao okay this is happyville on one of her random hp_capslock rp journals and i am seriously WAY TOO TIRED to sign off and sign on to my actual username


this is by far my favorite fred/george fic ever, i loved the plot, the descriptions, everything, and it's been a favorite since i read it awhile ago. i got the sudden urge to re-read it today, and i did, and now i'm commenting. ;D


Posted by: k8 matty (k8matty)
Posted at: June 12th, 2008 10:46 am (UTC)

eeeee! *pounce* thank you! Massive ego-boostage right now!

*sigh* am such a feedback whore...

<3 xxx

Posted by: youroctober (zenfriend)
Posted at: January 11th, 2009 06:59 am (UTC)

Easily the best Fred/George fic I've ever read. Ever. I have to go to work in three hours and I stayed up to read it, and when it was done, I felt like crying because I wanted more. Your plots are pure, pure genius.

Posted by: k8 matty (k8matty)
Posted at: January 11th, 2009 10:11 am (UTC)

Wow, this is probably the nicest comment I've ever gotten! thank you *awards bouquet*

Thanks for all the wonderful comments babe *hugs*

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