Watching in Horror
Title: Watching In Horror (sequel to Leaving me to Wonder)
Pairing: Fred/George
Rating: N-17
Summary: Ron's just discovered a family secret. Needless to say, he does not take it well.
Disclaimer: I totally own Harry Potter and all its characters. Want to take me on in court??? I SO DARE YOU!!!
~*~
Ron Weasley was not normally one for getting involved in emotional… things. They were too… emotional. And… yeah. Emotional.
But this particular emotional… thing… was just to weird not to get involved in.
Fred and George hadn’t been seen in company for three days. Not talking together, or laughing together and as far as Ron knew, they had not even been in the same room as one another.
It was bizarre.
It was off.
And it was just enough to pique Ron’s curiosity.
“Hey George?” He called across the common room to his elder brother, who was hunched gloomily in the darkest, most isolated corner of the room. “Seen Fred around?”
No response.
Then, “No.”
Ron glanced around at the emptying common room. It was late at night and everyone was just starting to go to bed. Once the last seventh year had yawned and headed up the girls dormitories, Ron tentatively approached his older brother and sat opposite him. Shadows and firelight ghosted across Georges face making him look eerily skeletal. Ron leaned towards him and coughed in a businesslike manner.
“Can I ask you something?”
“No.”
“I’m going to ask anyway.”
“I know.”
“Is something up with you and Fred?”
“No.”
Ron swore internally and calculated his next move.
“You guys seem weird around each other.”
“No, we don’t.”
“You don’t hang around each other as much.”
“We hang out plenty.” George lied.
“Fine. So where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“And you don’t care. And that’s weird.” checkmate, Ron thought triumphantly studying George for some kind of reaction or response.
George did not appear to be mourning his defeat. He simply sighed and continued staring stonily into the dancing fire across the room.
“Have the two of you had a bit of a falling out?” Ron asked gently, reaching out and touching George’s knee. George didn’t answer, but continued staring at the fire, eyes looking oddly detached and glassy.
“Ron.” He said, in a voice of cold, eerie calm. “If you don’t drop it now, you’re going to have a ‘bit of a falling out’, right out of that window.” George inclined his head towards a window closed against the wind and rain.
Ron quickly withdrew his hand as though he had been scalded. “I’ll j-just be heading off to bed, then…” he stuttered, and with a last worried glance at his older brother, Ron scampered up to his dorm as fast as his gangly legs could carry him.
~*~
Ron changed for bed and climbed into his four poster, but he was unable to sleep. Unconsciousness would not be so kind as to claim him until he heard footsteps pass his door, letting him know George had finally gone to sleep.
When after an hour or so, no footsteps came, Ron heaved a sigh. The bloody prick was still awake, and whether he chose to tell Ron or not, it was clear he was having some kind of emotional… thing.
“I’m going to go check on George.” Ron whispered to a sleeping Harry, who barely even grunted in response. He squared his shoulders and bravely descended the steps. He was joking about the window, he was joking about the window, he was joking about the window Ron told himself with every stair.
Halfway down, Ron stopped at the noise that assailed his ears. Groaning.
Oh shit. George was worse. Ron winced at the mental image of his brother hunched in a chair, moaning to himself at whatever emotional… thing… he was having to contend with.
“Oh-h God!” the anguished noise drifted up the stairs and Ron hastily sped up his descent. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him? As Ron came closer to the bottom of the stairs, the noises got louder, swearing and gasping and all sorts of wretched noises that finally had Ron bounding down the final steps two at a time. Was this fight with Fred really so bad that all George could do was sit in a dark room, moaning in torment?
“George, are you…” Ron stopped in his tracks and let his jaw drop as he pushed open the door to the common room. He blinked hard a few times to make absolutely sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.
George was indeed moaning, but it was in no kind of torment. He was splayed on his back, legs locked but jangling loosely around a strong, sturdy back. The back looked somewhat familiar to Ron, but the owner’s head was hidden and buried in the juncture of Georges body where neck meets shoulder. It was clear that the body atop George was male, and Ron blushed furiously as his gaze travelled between their bodies, and he realised what the mystery bloke was doing to his elder brother.
A sucking noise was coming from George’s neck, while a similar wet noise was issuing from elsewhere and Georges face screwed up in pleasure as his body started to tremble.
“Fucking hell, oh FUCK!” George shrieked and bucked as the bloke on top of him threw his head back in a snarl.
Ron felt as though he had been stabbed in the gut.
It was Fred.
~*~
Three hours later, Ron sat cross-legged on his bed, clutching his pillow to his chest, his eyes wide and horrified.
Fred.
And George.
And… Fred.
And… George
Oh my God.
Ron’s jaw was aching from his teeth being clamped together, but he could not have prised his lower jaw from his top set of teeth any more than he could have moved Hogwarts castle with all the strength in his pinky finger. He was in complete and utter shock, unable to perform even the slightest motor function.
His brain was unmercifully active, however, and continued to torture him by playing the scene in the common room on a loop in his head.
Geroge, moaning and writhing underneath Fred’s moving body.
Fred, snarling and thrusting into George so hard they slid off the couch, onto the floor in one big, tangled, sweaty, fucking mess.
The contented groans as the twin bodies came down from their orgasms and held each other, legs entwined around their naked…
Ron took a shuddering breath and bit his tongue hard. This wasn’t happening, it shouldn’t be happening, it couldn’t be happening.
He chanted that over and over to himself, all the while praying that the morning would never come.
~*~
George awoke the next morning, half asleep but completely convinced that the night before had been a dream. And not a dry one at that. Still with his eyes closed, he reached a hand out in search of the expected fluid mess, and broke out in a grin as his fingers collided instead with warm, hard flesh.
“Looking for something?” a voice asked dryly.
George opened his eyes and, to his glee and relief, saw Fred lying across from him, naked, sated, and smiling lazily at George.
“Might have found it.” George whispered cheekily as he curled his fingers around Fred’s morning hard-on. Fred groaned and thrust into the touch. He was extremely sensitive, courtesy of the graphic dream he’d had, which was essentially a replay of the night before.
The night before. Neither of them could quite believe it had finally happened.
“Shit, I’m going to come!” Fred moaned, clutching Georges shoulder. George grinned and hastily spend up the movement of his hand.
“Already? Took your time last night.”
“For God’s sake, George, I’ve been hard all night and I haven’t even gone to the toilet and… oh GOD do that again!”
George complied.
“Oh God, George!” Fred whimpered as he spilled himself into Georges palm. George laughed softly and bought his hand up to his face.
“What are you doing?” Fred smirked as George licked Fred’s remains from between his fingers.
“Now, Fred, a high protein breakfast is an important start to every growing boy’s day.” George explained in a flawless impersonation of their mother. Fred grinned and pulled the duvet away from George’s waist.
“A growing boy eh?” Fred smirked, starting to lick lightly around George’s rapidly swelling cock. “Well, who am I to refuse such a nourishing breakfast?” He pulled back and swore. “Oh shit. Breakfast!”
“Is right here!” George gasped insistently, attempting to pull Fred’s mouth back to his groin, but Fred was reaching for his watch, lost amidst the bedclothes.
“Oh shit, George, we’re fucking late!”
Fred scrambled out of bed and started pulling various items of clothing on, not caring particularly on whether they were his or George’s. George groaned, his cock throbbed in indignant protest as Fred zipped up his fly. He smoothed the front of his robes, rubbing his face and raking his fingers through his hair in an appalling mockery of basic grooming.
“How do I look?”
“Like a sexually selfish bastard.” George grumbled half-heartedly as he bent over, hunting for his own apparel, trying to ignore the unwilling little jolts of pleasure as his stiff cock brushed against his sheets. He heard a sigh from behind, and next thing he knew, he was being flipped onto his back, his knees forced apart and warm breath ghosting over sensitive flesh.
“Fine then. But you can explain why we were so very late this morning, dear brother.” Fred smirked right before he swallowed George’s prick whole.
~*~
“Where’re Fred and George?” Lee asked Ron over breakfast, spraying porridge everywhere to general disgust.
Ron shook his head at his empty plate in response. Unlike the usual feeding frenzy that was Ron Weasley, he had not eaten a single bite, but merely stared blankly at his cutlery, waiting for Harry to finish his eggs and Hermione to finish her bagel.
Lee’s question was soon answered nevertheless. Five minutes before breakfast was due to end, a loud crash sounded from the Entrance Hall, a spectacularly messy-sounding crash only worthy of the Weasley twins announced their entrance like a fanfare. Filch shot them a venonmous looks as he began to gather the scattered peices of a suit of armour.
“Morning all.” Fred said brightly, throwing himself down opposite Ron, Harry and Hermione.
“Nice day, yeah?” George gestured to the ceiling. Sunlight shone brightly down upon the breakfast table and there was a general murmured assent.
“Pass us the butter, George.”
“Here you go, Fred.”
“Cheers.”
“No worries.”
Ron’s ears went red with both embarrassment and indignation, and he peeked up from his plate to see his elder brothers chatting and interacting politely, giving no indication whatsoever that ten hours ago, they had been naked and sweating all over each other, polite words replaced with smutty obscenities.
“You okay, Ron?” Fred asked, looking concerned. “You look a little shaky.”
George glanced at his little brother and grinned in understanding.
“Ah, no, its okay, Fred. Ickle Ronnie was a tad concerned about my emotional wellbeing last night.” George told his twin, smirking. “Well, Ron, as you can see, Fred and I have decided to make good and play nice.” There was a general chuckling as Fred and George put their arms around each other and grinned cockily.
Ron glared, pulling his schoolbag with him as he rose from the table.
“Yes.” He said in a voice so icy Harry and Hermione looked up with raised eyebrows, their mouths bulging with breakfast. “I did see.”
And with that he left the Great Hall.
“What was that all about?” Lee whispered to Fred.
Fred and George exchanged a nervous glance as Harry and Hermione chased after their friend.
~*~
Although it would seem logical to spend the day in a mindless panic, Fred and George were able to push Ron out of their minds for the time being.
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that they were pushed up against Moaning Myrtles bathroom wall, panting harshly into each others mouths and fumbling furiously with the nasty little buttons that held their uniforms in place.
Yes. Perhaps that was it.
“Oh, bugger, George!” Fred whined as he bucked madly against George’s hand.
“If you want.” George smirked, biting on Fred’s earlobe. “Hold still, will you? I can’t undo this!”
Fred whimpered and willed his hips to stop their impatient thrusting. George licked the side of Fred’s face in approval and unbuttoned Fred’s fly.
George sighed in appreciation of the smooth, flushed shaft. He fell to his knees and sucked Fred into his mouth, moaning as he did so. “Fuck, you’re delicious…” He groaned sincerely, breathing wetly around the throbbing organ.
Fred let out a low, rich groan and let his head fall against the bathroom mirror, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He spread his legs apart in encouragement, and George took the opportunity to yank the troublesome trousers down and work a hand between Fred’s flushed thighs, fondling Fred’s balls as he sucked enthusiastically around the pulsating prick in his mouth.
Fred sagged against the bathroom mirror, making deep, erotic noises that had George throbbing and jerking so hard in his pants, he thought he might come just from those sounds and the feel of Fred in his mouth alone. He detached himself and stared up at Fred, who was lolling his head back against the bathroom mirror, looking completely submissive and utterly wanton.
George stood swiftly, undoing his own oppressive garments as he did so.
“Turn around.” He growled, already encouraging Fred with little pushes and tugs. Fred gasped and started panting with idea of what George was about to do to him, and sure enough, Fred soon felt the touch of fingers against his hole. They were wet with something, Fred realised, and he was about to ask what when a familiar flowery scent wafted up to his nostrils.
“It’s Ginny’s moisturising cream,” George snicked, inserting a finger. “that I found in your beside drawer this morning. Naughty thing.” George chuckled wickedly as he inserted another digit and crooked them so that they brushed against Fred’s prostate. “Stealing a young girls beauty cream to satisfy your own perversions…” Fred made an odd noise that sounded like a cross between a moan and a wail, and George took that as a good indication. He crooked his fingers again.
Fred made another strangled noise as his eyes flew open in alarm. Surely nothing should feel that bloody terrific? His cock seemed to think otherwise, as it jerked and leaked with every graze of George’s fingertips inside of him. Fred dazedly studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror as George worked in a third finger, and Fred absently thought through his haze of pleasure that soon those fingers would be replaced by Georges cock…
Oh God. George cock.
“Put it in!” Fred gasped suddenly, fogging the bathroom mirror before leaning back and catching George’s eye in the reflection. “Please! Put it in!” Fred begged, thrusting back and down on the fingers to convey his need. George nodded and withdrew his fingers with a wet noise before positioning himself behind Fred.
Fred could see George aligning his hips in the mirror, and his legs nearly gave way as a spike of arousal shot up through his body. Fuck did George have any idea of how hot this looked? Fred shut his eyes against the mirror and moaned loudly.
“Ready?” George asked, rubbing the dripping head of his cock against the crack of Fred’s arse, smearing bitter precome to mingle with the flowery moisturiser. He dragged his cock down, using it as a tool to part Fred’s arse cheeks, and pressed promisingly against the puckered, quivering flesh of Fred’s hole. He paused tantalisingly, unbearably, until Fred was writhing with need.
“Oh for fucks sake, just do it!” Fred cried out, then yelped as George pushed inside of him. George gasped at the unexpected tightness, the hot, wet, tightness of Fred’s arse. He stoped and seized Fred’s hips, pulling them back against his cock to impale himself further.
“Oh God! Fuck me!” Fred demanded, wriggling his arse in encouragement. George bucked automatically and groaned in pleasure as those gripping walls moved and clenched encouragingly around his cock. He knew time was now of the essence and wasted no more time with teasing little thrusts. He did as Fred asked and fucked him, brutally, ruthlessly, completely and utterly, until all Fred could do was jangle limply between George and the bathroom wall, howling with pleasure as George claimed him savagely over and over again.
“O-h-h-h…” George’s groan was broken by his desperate attempts to gasp lungfuls of oxygen, and Fred’s eyes rolled to the heavens of their own accord as his own chest started tightening. He was ragged and breathless and all Fred could think about was the glorious stabs of pleasure inside of his greedy hole. He sucked a breath, which was immediately stolen as George wrenched another drawn out moan from him with another well-aimed strike against his prostate.
George leant down over Fred’s back, his balls starting to draw up and his cock starting to tingle in promise. He bought his mouth close to Fred’s ear as he panted “I love you…”
Fred whimpered at the impact of those words combined with the liquid proof now spurting inside of him. “Oh-h fuck… come for me, Fred, come now!” George grunted and collapsed against Fred’s sweaty back. Fred cried out as his own orgasm erupted against the mirror, coating the twin reflections in come.
Fred fell forwards, almost cracking his forehead against the glass, but George seized him in time and pulled him back against his body. His softened cock slipped out, the strong, earthy smell of come, sweat and sex mingling with the flowery smell of the beauty cream. Fred reflected through his post-orgasmic haze that unless he wanted his arse to smell disturbingly like a garden from now on, they’d have to get some better lube. He sighed blissfully and leaned back into his brothers arms.
“Do you know how beautiful you are like this?” George asked seriously, thinking there not to be a more erotic sight on this earth than that of Fred lolling back against him, looking utterly debauched. Fred glanced up from under heavy lidded eyes and smiled dreamily as he caught George’s intense gaze in the mirror.
“You’re the only one who’ll ever know.” He promised, pulling George forwards for a kiss. “Cept maybe Myrtle. You don’t reckon she’s been spying, do you?”
George grinned. “I heard her sobbing from the U-Bend when we first came in. Gave it a good flush and clogged it with toilet paper. She’ll be in the lake for a couple of hours yet.”
Fred couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Flushing a member of the dear departed so as to steal a moment to bugger your twin.” Fred tutted once the giggles had subsided. “What little morals you once possessed are rapidly deteriorating, brother dear.”
“God, you’d better hope so.” George growled, swooping down and claiming Fred’s mouth once more before the bell sounded for next period.
~*~
Ron’s hands were bleeding.
He had been clenching his hands so tightly in anticipation of his older brothers’ return, he had cut the skin of his palms with his nails.
He absently wiped his bloodied hands on George’s duvet and tried to ward off any images that accompanied the sight of the large, neatly made bed. He tried very hard not to picture the freshly laundered sheets tangled between flushed, sweating, writhing limbs, tried very hard not to picture identical bodies losing themselves inside one another and…
Stop it, Ron shook his head violently like a dog ridding itself of water, just STOP it…
Laughter rose from the foot of the staircase and Ron’s stomach turned over. He still had time, he could walk away from all this. He could say something else, pretend he had never seen anything last night, and ignore the fact that the laughter had stopped and that a wet, smooching noise had taken its place…
Ron’s insides clenched with anger and disgust.
“Fred? George?” He called. His voice cracked and he heard the simultaneous gasps. Footsteps thundered up the final stairs and Fred and George burst into their dorm, clothes rumpled and eyes wide as they caught sight of their little brother sitting on Georges bed.
“Ron, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s impolite to go snooping in someone else’s room?” George asked testily, standing a little behind Fred to shield from view his raging hard-on.
“Yeah. How would you like it if we came and went through your dorm as we pleased?” Fred agreed, taking a deep breath to disguise his panting.
Ron said nothing, not about the twins shambolic state, nor about the tone with which he was being addressed. After an uneasy moment, he took deep breath and looked defiantly up at them.
“I know about the fucking.” Ron said bluntly. Fred and George bit their lips and looked at each other in grim understanding but said nothing.
“Did you hear me?” Ron hissed, the anger and resentment finally beginning to bubble to the surface. “I said I KNOW about the FUCKING!”
“Ron, we don’t know what you’re…” Fred began feebly, but Ron interrupted with a hysterical laugh.
“Oh, of COURSE you don’t! And I suppose you don’t know about last night in the bloody common room either?” Ron spat, pleased in spite of himself at the way Fred winced and George hid his face in his hands.
Ron hauled himself off the bed and stood half a hair away from George’s face. “And this morning, I suppose you were late just because, right? And I suppose the reason you both absolutely reek of sex would be-”
Ron stopped and inhaled sharply through his nose. Sex wasn’t the only thing they reeked of.
“Ron?” George asked timidly, putting a hand on his shoulder. Ron said nothing, eyes wide again, breathing in and out the unexpected odour.
Ron would know that flowery scent anywhere.
Something ugly and savage awoke inside Ron and he roared in fury.
“Oh God! Not… not… OH FOR FUCKS SAKE, YOU SICK SHITS!” He wrenched himself backwards away from George’s touch and threw his brothers a look of absolute contempt.
“Shut up, Ron! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” George yelled, angry tears welling up in his eyes. He had not waited seventeen years for Fred to come around, only to have Ron go and ruin it.
“I know what I saw.” Ron hissed as he suddenly found himself angrier than he had ever imagined possible. It was bad enough what they were doing to each other... but what they were doing to her! “I know what you’re doing. And I know it’s disgusting. You’re disgusting.” He added as he slammed the door behind him, leaving nothing behind but the sting of his words.
~*~
Next Part
Pairing: Fred/George
Rating: N-17
Summary: Ron's just discovered a family secret. Needless to say, he does not take it well.
Disclaimer: I totally own Harry Potter and all its characters. Want to take me on in court??? I SO DARE YOU!!!
~*~
Ron Weasley was not normally one for getting involved in emotional… things. They were too… emotional. And… yeah. Emotional.
But this particular emotional… thing… was just to weird not to get involved in.
Fred and George hadn’t been seen in company for three days. Not talking together, or laughing together and as far as Ron knew, they had not even been in the same room as one another.
It was bizarre.
It was off.
And it was just enough to pique Ron’s curiosity.
“Hey George?” He called across the common room to his elder brother, who was hunched gloomily in the darkest, most isolated corner of the room. “Seen Fred around?”
No response.
Then, “No.”
Ron glanced around at the emptying common room. It was late at night and everyone was just starting to go to bed. Once the last seventh year had yawned and headed up the girls dormitories, Ron tentatively approached his older brother and sat opposite him. Shadows and firelight ghosted across Georges face making him look eerily skeletal. Ron leaned towards him and coughed in a businesslike manner.
“Can I ask you something?”
“No.”
“I’m going to ask anyway.”
“I know.”
“Is something up with you and Fred?”
“No.”
Ron swore internally and calculated his next move.
“You guys seem weird around each other.”
“No, we don’t.”
“You don’t hang around each other as much.”
“We hang out plenty.” George lied.
“Fine. So where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“And you don’t care. And that’s weird.” checkmate, Ron thought triumphantly studying George for some kind of reaction or response.
George did not appear to be mourning his defeat. He simply sighed and continued staring stonily into the dancing fire across the room.
“Have the two of you had a bit of a falling out?” Ron asked gently, reaching out and touching George’s knee. George didn’t answer, but continued staring at the fire, eyes looking oddly detached and glassy.
“Ron.” He said, in a voice of cold, eerie calm. “If you don’t drop it now, you’re going to have a ‘bit of a falling out’, right out of that window.” George inclined his head towards a window closed against the wind and rain.
Ron quickly withdrew his hand as though he had been scalded. “I’ll j-just be heading off to bed, then…” he stuttered, and with a last worried glance at his older brother, Ron scampered up to his dorm as fast as his gangly legs could carry him.
~*~
Ron changed for bed and climbed into his four poster, but he was unable to sleep. Unconsciousness would not be so kind as to claim him until he heard footsteps pass his door, letting him know George had finally gone to sleep.
When after an hour or so, no footsteps came, Ron heaved a sigh. The bloody prick was still awake, and whether he chose to tell Ron or not, it was clear he was having some kind of emotional… thing.
“I’m going to go check on George.” Ron whispered to a sleeping Harry, who barely even grunted in response. He squared his shoulders and bravely descended the steps. He was joking about the window, he was joking about the window, he was joking about the window Ron told himself with every stair.
Halfway down, Ron stopped at the noise that assailed his ears. Groaning.
Oh shit. George was worse. Ron winced at the mental image of his brother hunched in a chair, moaning to himself at whatever emotional… thing… he was having to contend with.
“Oh-h God!” the anguished noise drifted up the stairs and Ron hastily sped up his descent. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him? As Ron came closer to the bottom of the stairs, the noises got louder, swearing and gasping and all sorts of wretched noises that finally had Ron bounding down the final steps two at a time. Was this fight with Fred really so bad that all George could do was sit in a dark room, moaning in torment?
“George, are you…” Ron stopped in his tracks and let his jaw drop as he pushed open the door to the common room. He blinked hard a few times to make absolutely sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.
George was indeed moaning, but it was in no kind of torment. He was splayed on his back, legs locked but jangling loosely around a strong, sturdy back. The back looked somewhat familiar to Ron, but the owner’s head was hidden and buried in the juncture of Georges body where neck meets shoulder. It was clear that the body atop George was male, and Ron blushed furiously as his gaze travelled between their bodies, and he realised what the mystery bloke was doing to his elder brother.
A sucking noise was coming from George’s neck, while a similar wet noise was issuing from elsewhere and Georges face screwed up in pleasure as his body started to tremble.
“Fucking hell, oh FUCK!” George shrieked and bucked as the bloke on top of him threw his head back in a snarl.
Ron felt as though he had been stabbed in the gut.
It was Fred.
~*~
Three hours later, Ron sat cross-legged on his bed, clutching his pillow to his chest, his eyes wide and horrified.
Fred.
And George.
And… Fred.
And… George
Oh my God.
Ron’s jaw was aching from his teeth being clamped together, but he could not have prised his lower jaw from his top set of teeth any more than he could have moved Hogwarts castle with all the strength in his pinky finger. He was in complete and utter shock, unable to perform even the slightest motor function.
His brain was unmercifully active, however, and continued to torture him by playing the scene in the common room on a loop in his head.
Geroge, moaning and writhing underneath Fred’s moving body.
Fred, snarling and thrusting into George so hard they slid off the couch, onto the floor in one big, tangled, sweaty, fucking mess.
The contented groans as the twin bodies came down from their orgasms and held each other, legs entwined around their naked…
Ron took a shuddering breath and bit his tongue hard. This wasn’t happening, it shouldn’t be happening, it couldn’t be happening.
He chanted that over and over to himself, all the while praying that the morning would never come.
~*~
George awoke the next morning, half asleep but completely convinced that the night before had been a dream. And not a dry one at that. Still with his eyes closed, he reached a hand out in search of the expected fluid mess, and broke out in a grin as his fingers collided instead with warm, hard flesh.
“Looking for something?” a voice asked dryly.
George opened his eyes and, to his glee and relief, saw Fred lying across from him, naked, sated, and smiling lazily at George.
“Might have found it.” George whispered cheekily as he curled his fingers around Fred’s morning hard-on. Fred groaned and thrust into the touch. He was extremely sensitive, courtesy of the graphic dream he’d had, which was essentially a replay of the night before.
The night before. Neither of them could quite believe it had finally happened.
“Shit, I’m going to come!” Fred moaned, clutching Georges shoulder. George grinned and hastily spend up the movement of his hand.
“Already? Took your time last night.”
“For God’s sake, George, I’ve been hard all night and I haven’t even gone to the toilet and… oh GOD do that again!”
George complied.
“Oh God, George!” Fred whimpered as he spilled himself into Georges palm. George laughed softly and bought his hand up to his face.
“What are you doing?” Fred smirked as George licked Fred’s remains from between his fingers.
“Now, Fred, a high protein breakfast is an important start to every growing boy’s day.” George explained in a flawless impersonation of their mother. Fred grinned and pulled the duvet away from George’s waist.
“A growing boy eh?” Fred smirked, starting to lick lightly around George’s rapidly swelling cock. “Well, who am I to refuse such a nourishing breakfast?” He pulled back and swore. “Oh shit. Breakfast!”
“Is right here!” George gasped insistently, attempting to pull Fred’s mouth back to his groin, but Fred was reaching for his watch, lost amidst the bedclothes.
“Oh shit, George, we’re fucking late!”
Fred scrambled out of bed and started pulling various items of clothing on, not caring particularly on whether they were his or George’s. George groaned, his cock throbbed in indignant protest as Fred zipped up his fly. He smoothed the front of his robes, rubbing his face and raking his fingers through his hair in an appalling mockery of basic grooming.
“How do I look?”
“Like a sexually selfish bastard.” George grumbled half-heartedly as he bent over, hunting for his own apparel, trying to ignore the unwilling little jolts of pleasure as his stiff cock brushed against his sheets. He heard a sigh from behind, and next thing he knew, he was being flipped onto his back, his knees forced apart and warm breath ghosting over sensitive flesh.
“Fine then. But you can explain why we were so very late this morning, dear brother.” Fred smirked right before he swallowed George’s prick whole.
~*~
“Where’re Fred and George?” Lee asked Ron over breakfast, spraying porridge everywhere to general disgust.
Ron shook his head at his empty plate in response. Unlike the usual feeding frenzy that was Ron Weasley, he had not eaten a single bite, but merely stared blankly at his cutlery, waiting for Harry to finish his eggs and Hermione to finish her bagel.
Lee’s question was soon answered nevertheless. Five minutes before breakfast was due to end, a loud crash sounded from the Entrance Hall, a spectacularly messy-sounding crash only worthy of the Weasley twins announced their entrance like a fanfare. Filch shot them a venonmous looks as he began to gather the scattered peices of a suit of armour.
“Morning all.” Fred said brightly, throwing himself down opposite Ron, Harry and Hermione.
“Nice day, yeah?” George gestured to the ceiling. Sunlight shone brightly down upon the breakfast table and there was a general murmured assent.
“Pass us the butter, George.”
“Here you go, Fred.”
“Cheers.”
“No worries.”
Ron’s ears went red with both embarrassment and indignation, and he peeked up from his plate to see his elder brothers chatting and interacting politely, giving no indication whatsoever that ten hours ago, they had been naked and sweating all over each other, polite words replaced with smutty obscenities.
“You okay, Ron?” Fred asked, looking concerned. “You look a little shaky.”
George glanced at his little brother and grinned in understanding.
“Ah, no, its okay, Fred. Ickle Ronnie was a tad concerned about my emotional wellbeing last night.” George told his twin, smirking. “Well, Ron, as you can see, Fred and I have decided to make good and play nice.” There was a general chuckling as Fred and George put their arms around each other and grinned cockily.
Ron glared, pulling his schoolbag with him as he rose from the table.
“Yes.” He said in a voice so icy Harry and Hermione looked up with raised eyebrows, their mouths bulging with breakfast. “I did see.”
And with that he left the Great Hall.
“What was that all about?” Lee whispered to Fred.
Fred and George exchanged a nervous glance as Harry and Hermione chased after their friend.
~*~
Although it would seem logical to spend the day in a mindless panic, Fred and George were able to push Ron out of their minds for the time being.
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that they were pushed up against Moaning Myrtles bathroom wall, panting harshly into each others mouths and fumbling furiously with the nasty little buttons that held their uniforms in place.
Yes. Perhaps that was it.
“Oh, bugger, George!” Fred whined as he bucked madly against George’s hand.
“If you want.” George smirked, biting on Fred’s earlobe. “Hold still, will you? I can’t undo this!”
Fred whimpered and willed his hips to stop their impatient thrusting. George licked the side of Fred’s face in approval and unbuttoned Fred’s fly.
George sighed in appreciation of the smooth, flushed shaft. He fell to his knees and sucked Fred into his mouth, moaning as he did so. “Fuck, you’re delicious…” He groaned sincerely, breathing wetly around the throbbing organ.
Fred let out a low, rich groan and let his head fall against the bathroom mirror, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He spread his legs apart in encouragement, and George took the opportunity to yank the troublesome trousers down and work a hand between Fred’s flushed thighs, fondling Fred’s balls as he sucked enthusiastically around the pulsating prick in his mouth.
Fred sagged against the bathroom mirror, making deep, erotic noises that had George throbbing and jerking so hard in his pants, he thought he might come just from those sounds and the feel of Fred in his mouth alone. He detached himself and stared up at Fred, who was lolling his head back against the bathroom mirror, looking completely submissive and utterly wanton.
George stood swiftly, undoing his own oppressive garments as he did so.
“Turn around.” He growled, already encouraging Fred with little pushes and tugs. Fred gasped and started panting with idea of what George was about to do to him, and sure enough, Fred soon felt the touch of fingers against his hole. They were wet with something, Fred realised, and he was about to ask what when a familiar flowery scent wafted up to his nostrils.
“It’s Ginny’s moisturising cream,” George snicked, inserting a finger. “that I found in your beside drawer this morning. Naughty thing.” George chuckled wickedly as he inserted another digit and crooked them so that they brushed against Fred’s prostate. “Stealing a young girls beauty cream to satisfy your own perversions…” Fred made an odd noise that sounded like a cross between a moan and a wail, and George took that as a good indication. He crooked his fingers again.
Fred made another strangled noise as his eyes flew open in alarm. Surely nothing should feel that bloody terrific? His cock seemed to think otherwise, as it jerked and leaked with every graze of George’s fingertips inside of him. Fred dazedly studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror as George worked in a third finger, and Fred absently thought through his haze of pleasure that soon those fingers would be replaced by Georges cock…
Oh God. George cock.
“Put it in!” Fred gasped suddenly, fogging the bathroom mirror before leaning back and catching George’s eye in the reflection. “Please! Put it in!” Fred begged, thrusting back and down on the fingers to convey his need. George nodded and withdrew his fingers with a wet noise before positioning himself behind Fred.
Fred could see George aligning his hips in the mirror, and his legs nearly gave way as a spike of arousal shot up through his body. Fuck did George have any idea of how hot this looked? Fred shut his eyes against the mirror and moaned loudly.
“Ready?” George asked, rubbing the dripping head of his cock against the crack of Fred’s arse, smearing bitter precome to mingle with the flowery moisturiser. He dragged his cock down, using it as a tool to part Fred’s arse cheeks, and pressed promisingly against the puckered, quivering flesh of Fred’s hole. He paused tantalisingly, unbearably, until Fred was writhing with need.
“Oh for fucks sake, just do it!” Fred cried out, then yelped as George pushed inside of him. George gasped at the unexpected tightness, the hot, wet, tightness of Fred’s arse. He stoped and seized Fred’s hips, pulling them back against his cock to impale himself further.
“Oh God! Fuck me!” Fred demanded, wriggling his arse in encouragement. George bucked automatically and groaned in pleasure as those gripping walls moved and clenched encouragingly around his cock. He knew time was now of the essence and wasted no more time with teasing little thrusts. He did as Fred asked and fucked him, brutally, ruthlessly, completely and utterly, until all Fred could do was jangle limply between George and the bathroom wall, howling with pleasure as George claimed him savagely over and over again.
“O-h-h-h…” George’s groan was broken by his desperate attempts to gasp lungfuls of oxygen, and Fred’s eyes rolled to the heavens of their own accord as his own chest started tightening. He was ragged and breathless and all Fred could think about was the glorious stabs of pleasure inside of his greedy hole. He sucked a breath, which was immediately stolen as George wrenched another drawn out moan from him with another well-aimed strike against his prostate.
George leant down over Fred’s back, his balls starting to draw up and his cock starting to tingle in promise. He bought his mouth close to Fred’s ear as he panted “I love you…”
Fred whimpered at the impact of those words combined with the liquid proof now spurting inside of him. “Oh-h fuck… come for me, Fred, come now!” George grunted and collapsed against Fred’s sweaty back. Fred cried out as his own orgasm erupted against the mirror, coating the twin reflections in come.
Fred fell forwards, almost cracking his forehead against the glass, but George seized him in time and pulled him back against his body. His softened cock slipped out, the strong, earthy smell of come, sweat and sex mingling with the flowery smell of the beauty cream. Fred reflected through his post-orgasmic haze that unless he wanted his arse to smell disturbingly like a garden from now on, they’d have to get some better lube. He sighed blissfully and leaned back into his brothers arms.
“Do you know how beautiful you are like this?” George asked seriously, thinking there not to be a more erotic sight on this earth than that of Fred lolling back against him, looking utterly debauched. Fred glanced up from under heavy lidded eyes and smiled dreamily as he caught George’s intense gaze in the mirror.
“You’re the only one who’ll ever know.” He promised, pulling George forwards for a kiss. “Cept maybe Myrtle. You don’t reckon she’s been spying, do you?”
George grinned. “I heard her sobbing from the U-Bend when we first came in. Gave it a good flush and clogged it with toilet paper. She’ll be in the lake for a couple of hours yet.”
Fred couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Flushing a member of the dear departed so as to steal a moment to bugger your twin.” Fred tutted once the giggles had subsided. “What little morals you once possessed are rapidly deteriorating, brother dear.”
“God, you’d better hope so.” George growled, swooping down and claiming Fred’s mouth once more before the bell sounded for next period.
~*~
Ron’s hands were bleeding.
He had been clenching his hands so tightly in anticipation of his older brothers’ return, he had cut the skin of his palms with his nails.
He absently wiped his bloodied hands on George’s duvet and tried to ward off any images that accompanied the sight of the large, neatly made bed. He tried very hard not to picture the freshly laundered sheets tangled between flushed, sweating, writhing limbs, tried very hard not to picture identical bodies losing themselves inside one another and…
Stop it, Ron shook his head violently like a dog ridding itself of water, just STOP it…
Laughter rose from the foot of the staircase and Ron’s stomach turned over. He still had time, he could walk away from all this. He could say something else, pretend he had never seen anything last night, and ignore the fact that the laughter had stopped and that a wet, smooching noise had taken its place…
Ron’s insides clenched with anger and disgust.
“Fred? George?” He called. His voice cracked and he heard the simultaneous gasps. Footsteps thundered up the final stairs and Fred and George burst into their dorm, clothes rumpled and eyes wide as they caught sight of their little brother sitting on Georges bed.
“Ron, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s impolite to go snooping in someone else’s room?” George asked testily, standing a little behind Fred to shield from view his raging hard-on.
“Yeah. How would you like it if we came and went through your dorm as we pleased?” Fred agreed, taking a deep breath to disguise his panting.
Ron said nothing, not about the twins shambolic state, nor about the tone with which he was being addressed. After an uneasy moment, he took deep breath and looked defiantly up at them.
“I know about the fucking.” Ron said bluntly. Fred and George bit their lips and looked at each other in grim understanding but said nothing.
“Did you hear me?” Ron hissed, the anger and resentment finally beginning to bubble to the surface. “I said I KNOW about the FUCKING!”
“Ron, we don’t know what you’re…” Fred began feebly, but Ron interrupted with a hysterical laugh.
“Oh, of COURSE you don’t! And I suppose you don’t know about last night in the bloody common room either?” Ron spat, pleased in spite of himself at the way Fred winced and George hid his face in his hands.
Ron hauled himself off the bed and stood half a hair away from George’s face. “And this morning, I suppose you were late just because, right? And I suppose the reason you both absolutely reek of sex would be-”
Ron stopped and inhaled sharply through his nose. Sex wasn’t the only thing they reeked of.
“Ron?” George asked timidly, putting a hand on his shoulder. Ron said nothing, eyes wide again, breathing in and out the unexpected odour.
Ron would know that flowery scent anywhere.
Something ugly and savage awoke inside Ron and he roared in fury.
“Oh God! Not… not… OH FOR FUCKS SAKE, YOU SICK SHITS!” He wrenched himself backwards away from George’s touch and threw his brothers a look of absolute contempt.
“Shut up, Ron! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” George yelled, angry tears welling up in his eyes. He had not waited seventeen years for Fred to come around, only to have Ron go and ruin it.
“I know what I saw.” Ron hissed as he suddenly found himself angrier than he had ever imagined possible. It was bad enough what they were doing to each other... but what they were doing to her! “I know what you’re doing. And I know it’s disgusting. You’re disgusting.” He added as he slammed the door behind him, leaving nothing behind but the sting of his words.
~*~
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