Title: What It Means To Whistle.
Rating: M. As usual.
Warnings: Total incest. If that bothers you…simply leave. Twincest. Lemon. Language probably. I have a potty mouth and I never notice. Post series. Underage.
Notes: I have two problems. One, I heart twincest. Two, whenever I read a certain oneshots that tend to amaze me, I have to go write something. That's usually positive. Today though, I decided to completely jump ship from my House Of Night ongoing story and profess my love of twinly love with this pathetic piece of nonsense. Enjoy!
After Voldemort's fall, the world really didn't want to forget its noble heroes. Those living and the dead. People remembered brave little Colin Creevey. He had his own special cover story in the Daily Prophet, complete with a giant photograph of him and his precious camera. And no one would ever forget Nymphadora Tonks. A beautiful, young Ministry employee who died gallantly, and tragically, right after giving birth to her only child. You can't go a day without thinking of them.
You could go a moment without thinking of Fred Weasley. Or, at least, that's how he felt.
Oh sure. He had lots of admirers and friends. He had beaten Zonko's out of the water with his jokes and gadgets. Girls loved him, men wished they were him. He had been king of his own little demented world. But he hadn't done all that alone.
George was the only reason that Fred could not cross over. The only single reason. That pissed Fred off, at first. He was left alone in a weird state where he could see everyone else, but neither side spoke to him. Now he really was in his own little world. It was foggy too. He thought that had been a little cliché- but it did fit. However, Fred's anger fell whenever he visited his twin. Shattered into a thousand bloody pieces. George missed him. A lot. Now that very well angered Fred too. They had each agreed that whoever outlived the other wouldn't be such a twit about it. But there was George- sobbing when alone and faking smiles when he had to be in public. It made Fred want to throttle him.
If only he could touch things without his palm sliding right though. Damn this purgatory…
So the only solution was to wait it out. What else could Fred do? He wasn't allowed to cross until George let him go. If that ever happened. Fred knew it wasn't his twin's fault. Not really. How could he possibly know what occurred after death? Fred certainly hadn't had a clue. Being stuck wasn't any fun but he had no other alternatives.
Until one evening when he decided to check in on George.
Fred hated going home. It was painful in several ways. If everyone was happy, that made him happy. But it also upset him. It was wonderful that others seem to accept his death. Fred had honestly thought it had been his mother's remorse that was holding him on earth. However, after several months of obnoxious observation, he could tell that his mother was simply too preoccupied to be in a constant state of sadness. She had a new grandchild, Victoire. And a blonde, bubbling half-Veela baby took most of his mother's time. Teddy Lupin was her usual playmate, and the two of them occupied the family almost completely. Sort of.
Ginny was with Harry, Ron with Hermione, blah blah. It was all too predictable for Fred to be giddy over it. That didn't stop his mum though.
George was the only one without something to throw himself into. The shop was just something he did when he wasn't moping at home. And not their flat, either, oh no. Fred had to follow him all the way back to the Burrow. George hadn't been in their kitschy apartment since Fred died. This too, upset Fred. How could his twin let himself go like that? They had agreed, damn it. Now George was unraveling completely. There wouldn't be anything left soon. In two days it would mark the second year. And Fred would be royally pissed if that meant another twelve months in solitary confinement.
Being made of pure spirit isn't the best way to be traveling. It was slow and went at a too steady of a pace for Fred's liking. Plus it took him forever to get home this way. George was usually asleep once he arrived in their old bedroom. How this place was any less painful then their flat…but there were more happier memories here, too. Fred could never forget those. Thinking of them was a bigger double edged sword then coming home. He loved remembering his twin. What they had accomplished. They had nearly all their dreams come true, something most people never achieve in a lifetime.
Fred drifted up the staircase and floated through the bedroom door. George was predictably asleep. A fitful slumber, it seemed. His face was stuck in a slightly pained expression. The muscles that stood out on his neck, and the tendons across his arms, twitched. Fred hated it. He wanted very much to just shove his brother right out of his bed and onto the hard wooden floor. However, he did as he usually did. He floated beside him and wished to be alive.
The memory he chose to mull over most often was the very day he decided that George wasn't just his twin. People assumed that they were the same because of the relation. No personal difference because their was little physical difference. But this was very untrue. Fred knew he acted quite often without thinking. It was just how he operated. Go by feeling- if it isn't right, do something else. If it feels good, go for it…that kind of attitude. If there were repercussions, that would have to be worried about later. George was different. He tended to ponder over things more. He had to make sure that things would be okay before he attempted something. He also wasn't as cocky, and twelve times as stubborn. Those were what usually drove wedges between the twins if a row occurred.
Fred acted on character that day. It had been in this bedroom, on this old mattress. His body- if you wanted to call it that, quaked slightly at the thoughts. He wouldn't lie- he reveled in them.
Maybe George wasn't the only one holding him here…
The day was starting out as a total dud. Nothing to do, no projects planned. Nothing to even blow up. It was hotter than hell to boot. August wasn't Fred's favorite time at all. He preferred the first two weeks after the end of term. Nice and hot, but he was busy. Now he felt rather irritated. Fifth year was coming soon and Fred wasn't ready to go back. He had fallen into a nasty sort of mood, too. He shrugged it off as end of summer itch but he knew what was really bothering him. He always knew. It was just that, for the first time, he wished for the feeling to go away.
But it had only intensified.
Fred could blame his jealousy. He could say that it had been the fault of his inflated ego. George, get a girlfriend before him? Not possible. What pissed him off even more was that she had been a secret. You don't fucking keep that a secret from your own twin. That in itself was a heated burn on Fred's thoughts.
"Her name is Victoria? That's sooo cute," Fred said in a falsetto once he had coerced George into admitting who he had been consistently writing to all summer.
It wasn't hard to miss the flush of red that painted his twin's cheeks. "She's fifteen too. I wanted you to meet her…but…"
"She's a baboon, isn't she? Total troll?" Fred snapped. He was walking around their room with his hands flying through the air.
"Portly, ugly, what is it?" Fred prattled on. He knew he sounded like an idiot. But that never stopped him before.
"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to get upset, okay?"
George sat up on his bed, watching Fred carefully. The letter to Victoria fell against his thigh.
"Upset?" Fred sputtered. "Why would I be upset over your love for a milking cow?"
He watched as his twin sighed, his eyebrows creasing together. He never yelled at Fred if he could help it. Even if he was being a spastic loser.
"Because I know you asked out Angelina and she turned you down, okay? I know how much you liked her."
Fred's angry face fell. How could George possibly know- oh wait. Angelina probably babbled it to the entire Quidditch team. No wonder Katie Bell had nearly hugged him until his head popped off that one afternoon…stupid girl. He had only asked her out in the hopes she'd make a good distraction from his other affection. It wasn't his fault he loved George like that. It was obviously some bug in his brain that had cause the feeling.
Why else would the fates be so cruel?
"Your right. I'm jealous. Yes indeed, sir…" Fred rolled his eyes and quickly pushed past his brother to escape the room.
George tried calling after him but gave up immediately. There was no point in trying to calm down a brick that wouldn't listen.
The worst part of loving George was that it made Fred feel disgusting. And stupid. What idiot goes and falls for his own twin? His mirror image, flesh and blood brother. He didn't like dwelling on it. But summer made it hard to ignore. They spent nearly every waking moment together. They shared a bedroom- alone. Fred had to start showering before George so that he wouldn't risk getting hard while his brother pranced about in nothing but a towel. That also seemed stupid to Fred. It wasn't like he hadn't ever seen George naked. They were identical twins, everything was basically the same model. It just never failed in turning Fred on.
He was diseased and he knew it. Might as well learn to cope with it. When Angelina had turned him down, it only convinced Fred further that he was meant to be alone forever.
The rest of the day was as pathetic as that morning. Before Fred knew it, it was evening and he could no longer avoid George. He had even skipped dinner, something he knew he would later pay for. And not just in hunger pains. His twin was going to badger him to death the minute he walked into the bedroom. It was just a matter of time.
It was close to midnight when he resolutely climbed the stairs. There was just nothing left to distract him any longer.
He opened the door quietly and braced for impact. He looked over at George's side to see him- sleeping?! What the fuck. Now he was not only miserable- Fred was pissed. Where was the brotherly concern? Had George no soul? Fred had half a mind to pounce on the red-haired boy as he slept. And beat the living guts right out of him. Instead, Fred went over and sat on his own bed, cross legged, and steamed.
What in the hell…has this Victoria girl completely consumed my dunder headed other half? Fred mused. It stung a little. He just didn't want to focus on that. The possibility that maybe he was envious, even a little…he wondered what his twin and this girl had been up to. Kissing didn't fret him. But touching…sex? Fred blanched. He had to know.
So that he had a legit reason to go completely insane.
Fred slipped off his bed and didn't bother being quiet as he treaded across the floorboards. That wasn't what would wake his brother. But a punch to the side probably would. And that is exactly what caused George to spring up, yelping and clutching his hip. Fred sat beside his twin and smirked in the dim light of the moon that was slipping through the curtains.
"What in Merlin's name…you've probably bruised me," George grumbled, pulling his body up into a sitting position.
"That's not important. What is, is that-,"
"You know, I waited for you forever. And then you skipped dinner." George interrupted him. "What the fuck is up with you, brother dear?"
Fred shook his head. "A lot of stuff."
"Is it…the whole Victoria thing?"
"No," Fred almost laughed. That was just the tip of the incest iceberg.
George frowned, and his twin hated that more than anything on planet earth. He rarely did it, so when it happened, it was painful.
"Look. Every time we talk like this…so closely, it's risky. It's dangerous. And that's terrible, but it is just the way it is now." Fred knew this cryptic statement wouldn't be welcomed.
"That's a load of rubbish! Just bloody tell me what's going on!" George grasped either side of his twin's face in his palms.
Their faces were too close. Noses touching…Fred would hate himself. But it had to be done. He pushed forward and kissed his brother's lips. It was as if something within him had exploded. Fred had been awake before, but now he felt utterly electric. Once the high came down though, he realized what was so wrong. George had become stone. There was no movement against his lips.
He had expected that. Fred quickly pulled away and sat against the wall. He would be yelled at, maybe even punched out. And he would deserve it. Oh, yes. He knew that much. So when nothing came Fred felt rather anticlimactic. George was still a rock, sitting there like a lump with wide doe eyes.
"Georgie…I'm so, so sorry…" Fred whispered. His eyes shut themselves tight as he braced for the blows.
"You kissed me." George said, in total shock. "Wh-why would you do that?"
Fred laughed darkly. "Because I was cursed as a baby, that's why. Some evil witch with a bug up her arse damned me to a lifetime of tripping myself up over my own twin."
"I don't understand…"
"I love you, Georgie. More than you could ever know." Fred flushed twelve shades of red. He was happy that the dim moonlight hid his tiny meltdown.
"I told you." Merlin. How thickheaded was George? Fred rolled his eyes. "Do you enjoy me flaying myself like this?"
"No, No…" George shook his head, long locks fanning out. "Why would you love me that way? You…you are you,"
Fred's eyes narrowed. "You need to start making sense. I thought I was verbally challenged."
Now his twin jumped up, sitting back on his knees. "You're popular. You have like…twelve girls that like you. That I even know of. You reject all of them, usually. Why in hell's eternal bells would you ever pick me?"
"You are me, stupid! We have equal amounts of admirers!"
"Oh, hippogriff shit. You know that isn't true," George huffed.
Fred left his hiding place by the wall. "Whoa…when did this turn into a 'is George Weasley lovable' conversation? I was admitting my deepest, darkest secret."
George bit his lip. "You…you aren't joking, then? You won't shout surprise, and then take the mickey out on me?"
The other sighed and shook his head. "I wish I could be joking, Georgie."
Fred's eyes widened. "How?"
"Well, kiss me. Again."
There was no logical explanation for that. Not that either twin was really into that subject, but all the same. Fred wished for the world to implode at that very moment so that if what his brother said wasn't real, he wouldn't know.
"Freddie. Are you going to kiss me or not? I feel like a fool." George whined, sitting down cross-legged.
His twin leaned in close again. Their eyes met and caught for the first time all night. Fred cupped his brother's jaw, and slid the pad of his thumb down the bone. It was amazing to feel how that made George shiver. He was shaking and it couldn't be the temperature. It was August. Fred wanted to take all the credit. He captured his twins' lips, and this time felt the other kiss back. It was wrong…wrong…wrong…logically.
But fuck logic.
Fred pulled George into his lap. Their hips crashed oddly, and the latter winced because of his new bruises. The kiss broke.
"I told you I meant this."
"I can tell you did."
George was quiet. There was something in the way he was breathing. How his eyes had a sparkle, a shimmering glisten to them that was pushing Fred's buttons of arousal. Their heartbeats were manic- that wasn't even a question. They were nearly audible. Fred didn't want to drive his twin away, now that he finally had him. But what he wanted drove him to the edge. George was right, Fred never wanted anybody else. Not like this. Never like this…it was painful.
Their dark eyes met again. It was obvious neither fifteen year old had any clue. They only knew what they wanted. Making it happen is usually more difficult. Both had snogged before, of course. But it had been with girls. Girls who weren't related to them. And, it hadn't been in their bedroom with the rest of the Weasley's around to have their ears perk up at two am to a sex romp. Fred sighed, resting his head on George's shoulder.
"I never would have imagined that this is what you had to tell me…"
Fred's eyes narrowed. "Yeah well, I didn't know you had a girlfriend, so…"
"Oh, we're on that again?" George rolled his own deep, russet colored eyes. "She's just a nice, cute bird…"
"Troll," Fred grunted and pounded his chest like an ape.
The other twin made a feral growl and pushed his brother into the mattress, sprawling out his arms. Fred was pinned. George sat over his hips roughly.
"Shut. Up." George whispered dangerously. His expression clearly read as irate.
Fred made kissing sounds. "Make me, Mr. Victoria."
He knew how to push people. But especially his twin brother. He sometimes did it to get what he wanted. And this moment was not different.
George bent down and kissed Fred passionately, almost desperately. Half of the reason for this was to shut him up. The other was just to feel their lips meet. It was supposed to be bad. It wasn't. It should feel wrong. It just didn't. Fred rubbed his brother's sides, back, and over his hipbones. The last one stunned George enough into opening his mouth. Fred didn't give his twin time to decide. He pressed their tongues together roughly, entwining them. Then he pulled George down closer so their chests would touch. If Fred had thought their heartbeats had been loud before, it was even worse now. His hands dipped lower, fingers gently rubbing his brother's lower abdomen. George froze in their kissing and pulled off. He looked around for a moment before climbing off of his twin entirely. Fred felt stupid.
Obviously, he had went too far.
But for the millionth time, George shocked him. He had merely changed positions. Now he would be beneath Fred. His legs were slightly spread open and he was propped up on his elbows. He looked timid, shy, whatever-, all things that Fred was finding completely adorable. But, that had to leave now. He wanted George to want this like he did. Fred hovered over his twin. Had to think of a method. Of a movement. He had pictured this for some time now. Never had he thought he would get to act on it. That was what through him off.
That this was reality.
He started by kissing George again. On his lips, then his jawbone. One on his earlobe. Then he made a trail down his twin's chest, up and over his naval. He paused at the elastic band of George's pajama pants. Fred didn't ask. He just acted. He slid the pants down a few inches and kissed the skin there, too. George hissed.
"I didn't think you'd be a fifteen year old male tease."
"You should know me better then," Fred smirked, dragging his tongue back and forth across the patch of flesh and hair.
"Get over it." Fred mumbled and pushed the pants over his twin's slender hips. Suddenly, the boy beneath him didn't seem so brave.
The actions went on pause and George wiggled in his hands. "You can go ahead, Freddie." his voice was serious.
Fred didn't respond verbally, instead he started to remove the pajamas. Then he thought better of it, and nixed the boxers too. Then they wouldn't have another awkward moment like that. Rip the bandage off quickly. It's best. George's blushing was visible even in the poor lighting. Fred observed what he already knew was there. A trail of dark ginger hair leading down to similar thighs and a cock that was a mirror image of his own. Only, he had to be more aroused than George. He shifted a little in his own pajama pants at the thought.
Had to act again. Fred bent back down and resumed his ministrations. Tiny, feathery kisses were placed down his twin's thighs, and back up to his naval. He hadn't touched George…yes, like that. Not yet. He wanted his brother to ask for it. So Fred went back to kissing his brother's mouth. And George seemed fine with that…for a second. The twin above him could feel George's rising dick began to touch his belly that hovered over it.
"Am I really that unattractive, or do you just hate me?" George wiggled and pushed his erection against his brother's inner thigh.
Fred snickered. "A little of both,"
"Freddieeee," George whined.
"Fine, fine. What is it you want?"
Ah, that again. Speaking for what you want is never easy. Both twins were virgins. Losing it to each other seemed silly and kind of strange. In theory. But like logic, theories need to get fucked.
George placed one hand around Fred's, guiding it to his hardening dick. The other he entwined in his twin's long shaggy mess of red hair, and pulled Fred down so that his lips came close to the tip.
His urgency alarmed Fred. And it also amazed him, all at the same time. He could never say no to his twin, so Fred slid his mouth over George and tried his best. He had no clue how to blow someone properly. He was fifteen. A wizard. Straight…er. Maybe. The point was, he didn't know how to suck a penis, especially his twin brother's. That wasn't a class at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft & Wizardry. He managed to get it halfway down inside his throat before Fred gagged. He pulled out, lapping at the pre cum that coated the reddened length. His hand was doing something different by the base. His tongue met it there and he licked at that spot too. It didn't matter that the ginger hair that graced the tip of his nose was all too familiar. George was enjoying this. It was mediocre, sure, but Fred doubted his brother would know the difference.
"S-stop…I'm going to…come. Just stop," George whimpered, pulling up into a sitting position.
"I can't just let you stay like that," Fred insisted, gesturing at his brother's stiffness.
"You won't." George said quietly. They exchanged a look that would forever be in bold on Fred's eyes. It was something that could never be found again, not anywhere. And certainly not on anyone else.
"Are you…sure? I didn't think you'd want to, so quickly," Fred kissed his twin's cheek.
"Me either. But how this feels-,"
"- I know-,"
"- I can't give it up."
"We won't," Fred chuckled. "I know I won't."
George looked uncomfortable. "What about the clan out there?"
"If we want to tell them, we will. It's our business. Not theirs." Fred said firmly.
They sat there in silence for a few moments. They never would have to tell their family about how they felt. At least, Fred never would. At that very moment, the fates had his death clock ticking so loudly, it was a shame the boy never heard it.
"Please…now," George whimpered and tugged at his brother's pajama pants.
Fred was quiet, but he complied and shed his garments. Now they matched entirely too much.
"Ha…haven't I seen this before," Fred grinned. But George wiggled beneath him again.
"I always liked being identical," his voice was low, and somehow very seductive.
Now Fred felt the pangs of arousal stab at his body. No more playtime. He looked around their bedroom quickly. No lotion. Nothing. They couldn't use magic, either.
"Um…I have nothing to…well, use." Fred blinked at his twin.
George blinked back. "What? Oh..Oh! Well, I know. I'll pay for it, but…" he took Fred's hand and took the index, middle, and ring finger into his mouth.
You wouldn't think mouth fucking someone with your fingers would feel really good. But it did to Fred. How hard George did it was what got him the most. Finally Fred managed to ease out his fingers. If they didn't have sex soon both would be all damp for no reason. George laid back down, urging his hips up. Slowly, Fred brushed his index digit against his brother's tight ring of muscles. Easing it in didn't help. His twin still hissed in pain at the intrusion, but insisted he continue. Scissoring him was even worse, pushing the tight walls apart in search of pressing against the spot that Fred knew would make George forget that there had been any pain at all. His ring finger pushed in as well. The hard walls writhed at the touch. Burning, sizzling pain that was making his twin whimper.
"I want you now…not your hand." George said, his voice scratchy. Tears wet the corners of his eyes.
Hell, Fred could see marks where his twin had bitten down on his lips in agony. So, as it was his lot in life, Fred complied to his brother's wishes. He spit in his palm a few times and coated his slightly wet dick in the saliva. It wasn't sanitary…but he just couldn't imagine George complaining.
They were family, after all. They use the same facilities, cups, and once upon a time, they used to bathe together. Fred nearly snickered. History would be repeating itself on that one, if he had his way…
He pressed the seeping tip against George's thighs, who sat up a bit and took Fred's dick into his hands and began pushing it inside himself. The very sight of that almost made Fred come immediately. He let his twin pick the pace. His eyes became unfocused, and the only thought in his brain was how tight this felt. It wasn't…that painful. Just hot, and so, so…constricting. When Fred looked again, George's hand fell away. He was completely sheathed inside his twin brother. Nothing would ever be the same.
"Move, Freddie." George whispered. His eyes were closed again.
Fred gently slid against the overwhelming heat. The faster he went, the more relaxed he felt. He lifted up away from George so that he could reach more of him. This was appreciated, and the bottoming twin couldn't help but finally release a string of moans and profanities that became a song in Fred's ears. He even heard his name called out once or twice. It was all very shallow and rushed. George's moans were the best part, Fred decided. He didn't even notice that he was making the same exact sound.
When it was close, he picked George up from the mattress and sat down. Now his twin was on top, sitting in his lap. Fred could really watch him now.
"Open your eyes," Fred said quietly.
George did, his body shivering as his twin pumped harder and harder inside of him. His nails grazed Fred's chest, and he placed his head down over his brother's collarbone.
"I love you, Georgie." Fred said and with one final thrust, his twin was filled.
This burned too but it wasn't as bad. His whole body ached, but George couldn't care less. Fred kept fucking him until he came a moment later, spilling his seed all over their bare chests. Everything was a mess. They collapsed back against the clean part of the bed, panting. George was shaking. He burrowed against his twin and sighed.
"Nothing. I just…well, I love you too, Freddie."
The memory collapsed when the current George issued a gigantic roar of a snore. Fred almost laughed.
"I love you. You know that, don't you Georgie?" Fred whispered against his brother's ear.
It was stupid to say out loud. No one could hear him, he had already tried that. But much to his surprise, George shifted against the mattress and leaned in closer.
If Fred could fall over in shock, he would have. "You can hear me! Georgie, Georgie…listen to me-,"
"I miss you…Fred…please come get me,"
He paused. He had to, what was left of his heart was crumbling.
"I-I can't do that. You have to live your life. For you, and for me," Fred whispered, his translucent hand fumbling through his brother's face.
George cried out. It was soft, more like a moan. "But you have to…don't leave me here without you,"
"Please…I need you to let me go," Fred begged. He never needed to touch something so bad in all his existence. Just one stroke against his twin's cheek would last him all of eternity.
"I love you." George mumbled, his eyelids fluttered. "More than you ever knew."
"I see that now. I'm sorry we wasted the last year having to fight the world…" Fred smiled when George did.
"W-worth it. Cept' you…you died…" George tipped his head back against the pillow, his breathing easing back into sleep. "I hate it."
"Me too. But you know what? One day I'll see you again. You'll be real old too. At least, you better be." Fred said darkly against his twin's warm cheek. "Promise me,"
"I promise." George mumbled into the air. "You gotta go, Freddie. I'm cold…" his pale body shivered beneath his sheets.
Fred looked around the tiny bedroom. It was as foggy as when he wandered outside. Everything faded until the only remaining things were him and George, sleeping away in his cozy bed. He seemed relaxed now. Not as perfect as Fred desired, but close enough. His odd, translucent form was becoming more solid. When Fred finally turned away from his twin, he found he was staring at very familiar faces. He walked towards the nearest one, Remus Lupin. The whole lot was waiting. An immediate settling of peace overwhelmed him, swallowed him right up. But he just had to look- just one more time. After all, he'd never really forget.
"Go Fred. You made me cold,"
"I'm already gone, Georgie." Fred grinned.
George sat straight up in his bed. His back was covered in cold sweat, as were his sheets. The room was chilly and not at all to his liking. Yet, something was different. He just couldn't quite place what that something was. The clock, a demon object in George's eyes, told him that the workday was here.
He stumbled out of bed and padded out into the hall and to the bathroom. No one was up yet and he preferred to shower in peace. George was under the spray when he began to whistle. Nothing special. Not even a specific tune. But it was the melody that was important. Happy.
George stopped. Was he happy? He had lost all hope in such things. But he hadn't whistled in years. So, maybe he was lucky. Nah…luck had nothing to do with it.
Might as well just go with that.
Yeah...this can't be explained. Oh well. Reviews!