Notes: Written on a whim because I have a thing for twins. You can always correct my spelling, style, and grammar. But do not bash my plot. It's fanfiction. Get over it. Lots of sexual themes.

A gasp. The sound of bed springs coiling and uncoiling beneath human weight. The echoing, soft sobs that heave out of one's chest so deeply that breath becomes shortened and the world seems to shrink. The rather colorful, the rather popular shop, the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, was closed. That made sense, for it was way past the midnight hour. Above the store, directly in front of the north facing window, was an empty four poster bed. The sheets and blankets were wildly twisted and entwined with the pillows. A small, fat white candle lit up the side of the wall, the end table, and almost nothing else.

A moment ago George Weasley had been sleeping here. A few seconds ago or so, he had woken up from a powerful dream. Not a nightmare. Not even close. A dream of incredible passion and lust. He hadn't felt so strongly in almost two years or so now. After the dream, he had pushed aside his bed covers and violently made his way into the bathroom. Several gulps of water later, he still didn't feel any better. The passion had left him. What resided in its wake, was a lot worse.

An empty feeling. An ache that George spent his waking hours trying to fill or at least, ignore. It was the missing part of him, his better half, his one and only twin brother. You could replace old shoes, or even an old girlfriend. But you don't get more than one twin brother. George gazed into the bathroom mirror. His reflection was the same. Permanent frown, half lidded eyes, and his former self lost within those lines. His ginger hair was tousled and stuck up on one side of his head. George felt his eyes slip closed. He didn't want to look anymore.

"Oi! Bedhead! You like embarrassing me or what?" said Fred's voice in his ear. "Georgie, fix that mop or people will say things at breakfast."

George's eyes fluttered open. No Fred. Just an empty, slightly dirty loo. The small smile that had appeared when the illusion began, shattered onto the tile floor. George felt his body sigh but didn't hear the sound. It was great to dream of Fred...usually. It was the waking up part that was the real disappointment. Once again George closed his eyes. Maybe he could keep hold of that dream a little longer...

There were few words in this dream.

Hands pressed against flesh…touching and feeling their way through darkness. George knew he was naked. He could make out the outline of his discarded jeans from where he was standing. The room was a closet. He knew that just by instinct, just like he knew it was Fred who was kissing his chest and pinching his nipple. He could never forget how it felt to have his twin touch him. How amazing it was to be fucked by him, over and over again until his body would ache and his breath was ragged. They spent quite a few nights like that.

The other times George felt love in Fred's caresses. It wasn't animalistic, sensual lust. The lovemaking would be slow and it would build on emotion. George would often tease Fred and call him out on drawling out the moment. But he honestly enjoyed it. There wasn't a better feeling in the whole damn world than knowing he had someone on his side everyday. For everything. Fred wasn't just a mere lover, or brother, or even just his twin. He was definitely what defined George has a person. Fred was the other half of his soul, and he was certainly what kept them both alive. So whenever they proved their love physically, their bodies reunited in pleasure.

This closet moment was obviously not a slow moment. Fred's tongue slid down the shaft of George's cock, and ran his teeth gently along it as well. He did it on purpose to make his brother shiver. He loved how he could make George twinge so simply. But blood was beating hard inside his ears, not to mention another key area. Fred swallowed his twin's cock completely and bobbed his head up and down with rapid movements. The urge to choke came and went, but that was fine. The most important thing was that George was moaning. He was never very loud, but he was audible. Soft little mewls would burst out every now and then, and they drove Fred completely up the wall. In response he just did a better job. He forced George's cock down his throat over and over until he knew it wouldn't be long until his brother would beg to be fucked. Fred knew him oh too well. Not that he didn't wish to linger, and taste the bitterness of his twin's cum inside his mouth. But they could do that later.

George was panting softly as he watched Fred slide his mouth off his cock. He whined, and blushed afterward. His brother smirked and stood up slowly, undressing as he spoke.

"I would never let you down that way…I know you want more, don't you?"

Fred's soft way of speaking so sensually made George only need it more than he already did.


"Begging will only get you everywhere…" Fred winked and pulled his twin up against him. Their cocks rubbed off each other and each brother made a soft muttering sound.

There wasn't any existence of time in this dream. George wasn't even sure if this was a real place they were in. But none of that really mattered. Fred kissed slowly down his neck, biting into his skin every other time. George lay supported against his brother, resting his face in the crook of Fred's neck. He felt teeth dig into him and the slow sucking sound being made so that bruises would mark his pallid skin. George gasped a bit at the pain, but slowly grew used to it. There was never any shame in having contusions as long as Fred was the one to cause them.

Fred rubbed his palm along the small of his brother's back, and slid it up to his neck, grabbing a fistful of ginger hair. He pushed George down to his knees, who went submissively to the floor. He took in Fred's cock more easily than Fred had taken his own. He never felt the urge to sputter and gag. George just simply took it, holding his brother's hips as Fred jerked them forward and fucked his throat. It was only to get his cock wet so it would be easier to fit inside George's ass. Not that Fred never took him dry. But there was also a different time for that.

Fred grabbed his twin by the hair again and tugged him up off the hard wooden floor. They kissed again, deeper this time. It was rather messy too. George could feel the saliva dripping down his chin in a straight, neat line. Fred always dominated their kissing, too. He sucked his twin's tongue right into his mouth, where he could force the kiss to go his own way. But soon he broke it off and forced George up against the wall of the closet in Nowhereland.

"Better hope you sucked me good, Georgie…otherwise you'll be sorry,"

"I always suck you good…"

Fred laughed softly and pushed himself inside his brother. "I know…"

George clawed a bit at the wall and found out that it was quite hard, and made of stone. It didn't matter, because he needed something to support his body. He bent forward as much as he could, leaning into the rough exterior. Fred wasted didn't like to waste time. He fucked his twin deep and fast, forcing his dick back into the deepest part inside George. A tense, overwhelming feeling of heat erupted within the latter's abdomen. He moaned in his soft, not overbearing kind of way. Fred bit so hard into his own lip that dots of blood blossomed around his skin.

Within this dream, everything felt too real. It could have been a broom closet at Hogwarts, or their hall closet at the Burrow. But a nagging feeling within dream George's mind told him everything would fade. It would die; so enjoy it as long as possible.

So he did.

George jerked himself back and fell against his brother, who held him still and bent him over. The throbbing ache within his anal cavity was blinded by the pleasure that swallowed him whole. Fred was panting a bunch of different things. Sometimes profanities, and sometimes he even called George "baby". It wasn't a bad thing to hear. He wanted Fred to own him in that sense. Even if how they felt could never ever live outside closed doors. Somehow that didn't even matter. As long as they had one another…most other relationships meant nothing.

He could see his cum on the wall of the closet. George had been stroking himself the entire time, sometimes aided by his brother's hand. Not even a second later, hot liquid filled George's hole. He had been moaning in his sleep and he was almost awake. It was a devastating feeling. George knew he was rubbing himself in his bed. But Fred wouldn't be sleeping beside him. There was no one to wake up and share with. A cold mattress in a lonely flat.

In the moments between being asleep and being awake, Fred rubbed the cleft of his brother's ass and crooned in his ear.

"I'll be waiting, Georgie." Then a soft laugh. It was what George woke up to.

His eyes had met the dingy ceiling in despair. He wanted, needed to cry out for his missing half. But George had moved beyond tears. Quite some time had passed since the fall of Voldemort..not that it didn't stop him sometimes. Some days were just better than others.

Slowly, George opened his eyes again. This time he was a little shocked. His cheeks were wet, and his nose was red. His entire face was ruddy from the silent sobbing he hadn't even been aware of. Quietly, George cleaned his face. The cold water singed his skin as if it had been boiling.

His legs felt very heavy. He carried himself, very gently, over to the loo window. He cracked it slightly and breathed in the cool, misty spring air. George suddenly felt the urge for one of his boxed, prized cigars. Smoking was a post-Fred habit. He stared out at the small town below. No one was awake. He couldn't even hear birds.

Most other relationships meant nothing…

A small breeze blew through the bathroom window, tossing George's ginger hair up, only slightly. For the first time in a week his smile finally stuck to his face.