Author's Note: Okay, so here lies my first twincest fic, and where better to start than those sexyfine Weasley boys? Seriously, they are sex on legs! This fic is in honour of my fangirl friend Kirsty. FRED LIVES!


It's nearing two in the morning when I'm woken by the sound of my twin moaning loudly. I roll over and stare groggily across the room to where Fred is lying in the identical bed against the opposite wall.

"Uhh. . ." he gives another low moan and I can see him raising his hips beneath the bed-sheet. Judging from the noises he's making and the – now quite prominent – erection that is growing under the sheet, I guess that he is having some kind of erotic dream. It isn't the first time it's happened in the past month – Fred seems to be having quite a few wet-dreams lately – and I automatically reached under my duvet to grasp my own hardened member. The sound of Fred's lust-filled voice is so unbelievably erotic that I can't help feeling turned on by it. Most other people – if not ALL other people – would probably consider that an extremely wrong thing for me to get off on, but I don't care. I've long since accepted the fact that I am physically, and emotionally, attracted to my twin, and have been ever since the two of us first experimented with jacking off.

It was when the two of us were just turning thirteen. We received some racy magazines from Lee at school, and were gleefully examining them in our dormitory one evening. Everyone else had gone to Hogsmeade, so we had the dormitory to themselves. The scantily-clad girls in the pictures – changing their pose every few minutes – pouted saucily up at us from within the glossy pages, and I soon felt my erection beginning to swell beneath the cloth of my jeans and boxers. It then became apparent that Fred was in the same boat, as he started shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

"George. . ." he said, his cheeks flushing a dark shade of pink beneath his freckles that I was sure my skin-tone was mirroring. "D'you mind if. . .?"

He didn't need to complete the sentence – I knew exactly what he meant. We removed our jeans in silence and sat there in just our T-shirts and boxers, our identical erections forming tents under the thin material. I watched as Fred started massaging the hardened bump, his fingers wrapping clumsily around his clothed shaft. I began to do the same, and we continued for a good few minutes before simultaneously delving our fingers past the waistband of our undershorts and letting our hands come into contact with the warm flesh beneath them.

"Uhh. . ." Fred moaned huskily, and I felt my growing erection twitch slightly beneath my fingers. Whoa. That wasn't supposed to happen. It couldn't be normal – I knew it wasn't normal – to feel sexually aroused by the sound of my own brother's voice. My twin brother, no less. Nevertheless, I continued to silently pump my hand up and down my own member, while Fred sustained his gasps and moans. I later learned that Fred was never silent when he was aroused. I longed with every fibre of my being to be the one to make him utter those wonderful sounds.

Ever since that day, I've sought out any opportunity to be as physically close to Fred as possible. Luckily, all outsiders – and Fred, I hope – just think the two of us are very close. It isn't surprising, not to the rest of the world, considering we've been together since birth. But to me it's more. So much damn more. Of course I've never mentioned it to anyone. How can I? To just casually confess that I'm in love – certainly in lust – with my own twin brother? I'd be cast out from everyone else I love – my family, my friends, and no doubt Fred himself. I could never live with himself if Fred hated me. I'm not going to give him any reason to, not if I can help it.

But tonight something just snaps and I can't help myself any longer.

I swing my legs out of bed and pad softly across the carpet to stand by my brother's bedside. Fred really is gorgeous, asleep or awake, and tonight he looks especially so – his burnt-orange hair falling into his closed hazel eyes, identical to mine, his mouth partly open as he breaths deeply, his hips still raised slightly off the mattress. I'm finding it so hard not to touch him that I think my heart might burst. My palms are sweating as I kneel down beside the bed and begin to slowly – very slowly – edge my hand across the bed. Just one small move and I could have my fingers wrapped around Fred's now fully-hardened member. My mouth is as dry as sand and I can hear a roaring in my ears as I slip my hand underneath the blanket and feel my fingertips brush the side of Fred's body. So warm and soft. . .

Fred gives another low moan and his face contorts briefly into a wince of pleasure. I feel my own steadily-growing erection give an involuntary twitch. My heart is in my mouth as I guide my hand down Fred's chest to his stomach. I am unbelievably thankful that Fred doesn't wake up – I can normally come up with excuses for my antics straight off the fly, but I'm not so sure I could come up with one for this particular situation. I pass my twin's navel and my fingers follow the line of hair that leads down Fred's abdomen to the instrument of my desires. I can feel the sweat on my forehead as my little finger touches the base of Fred's member, rigid and hard with all the blood pumped into it. Taking the bull by the horns, I take a deep breath and slide my fingers right round Fred's cock. The two or three second that follow could have been two or three years for the way they drag by. I hear Fred give a sudden intake of breath, but his eyes don't open. Letting out a long held-in breath, I begin moving my fingers up and down my brother's length, rubbing my thumb around the head, feeling warm pre-come leaking out of the tip.

"George. . ."

I freeze, all the blood in my body turning to ice. I daren't look up at Fred's face, for fear of seeing his confused and disgusted eyes staring back at me. I'm still for at least a minute before I dare raise my eyes to look at my brother. He's miraculously still asleep. I warm rush of relief spreads through my body and my tense shoulders slump.


If he's saying my name like that while I'm jerking him off, surely that must mean. . .

He's dreaming about. . . me?

I begin to raise and drop my hand up and down his length again, slowly at first, but gradually gaining speed when Fred whispers my name again. Never has the sound of my name on his lips given me such unbelievable pleasure. Fred unconsciously bucks his hips against my hand and the duvet falls from his body, revealing my freckled hand around his cock. I never thought I'd ever see it out of my dreams, and I reach my other hand between my legs to rejuvenate my erection.

"Nnng. . . George!" Fred cries out. I grab his wand from his bedside table and mutter a hasty, "Muffliato." If someone were to walk in I'd have a hard time explaining how I came to be kneeling by my brother's bedside with one hand on his cock and the other on my own.

"Fred. . ." I murmur, raising myself further from the ground so my lips are on par with my hand. I close my eyes and bring his glorious length into my mouth, wanting to savour the taste of him on my tongue. I take the tip all the way back to my throat and he makes a strangled noise of pleasure, raising his hips to my mouth.

"A-ah. . .!" he gasps and grabs fistfuls of his bed-sheets. I bob my head up and down his long shaft, pausing only to flick my tongue against that really sensitive spot on the underside of the head. When it do this, Fred jerks quite violently and I'm very surprised he doesn't wake up. I continue in this manner for a good five minutes before my tongue is coated with thick, warm, salty fluid. I swallow it down, wincing a little at the taste but satisfied with the result of my efforts. Of course, I would be much happier if I could have done it when Fred was conscious, but I know that could never happen. I get to my feet and stare down at my twin's face. He's panting slowly now, his eyes quivering behind their lids, his lips parted.

"Fred. . ." I bend down and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "I love you." It's the only time I can say it. I turn and walk slowly back to my own bed.

"You're not thinking of leaving it there, are you?"

I whip round to fast I nearly fall over. Fred is sitting upright against his headboard, his arms folded, trying to look cool and casual, but I can see his chest still heaving. I feel my blood rushing to my face, leaving the rest of my body cold. Exactly how long has he been awake?

"I. . . uhh. . ." I swallow, trying to find the words – any words – to answer his question.

"Lost for words?" he smirks. "Not like you, Georgie."

I laugh nervously and run a hand over my face. "How. . . how long. . .?"

"Since you started," he shrugs, nonchalant as you like. "You woke me up when you put your hand on my chest."

Regaining some of my composure, I fold my arms – mirroring him – and raise an eyebrow. "Ironic you can sleep through hours of Mum shouting for you to get your lazy ass out of bed, but you just happen to wake up the minute I touch you."

"I think you touching me holds higher priority than Mum screaming at me." He swings his legs out of bed and walked over to me, still butt-naked. He stands a metre or so from me, copying my exact pose. "So," he says, cocking his head to one side. I copy him. "You got something you want to say to me right now?"

"Not really," I say. Since he's not yelling at me or calling me a sick freak or anything, I'm finding it slightly easier to deal with being caught out. He takes a step towards me. I do the same. "Oh really?" he asks. "How about I say something then?"

"Go ahead."

He takes three sharp strides towards me and takes my face in his hands, pressing his lips against mine before I have a chance to even open my mouth. At first all I can do is stand there, my arms hanging limply at my sides. Then the feeling starts to come back into my body and I slowly wrap my arms around Fred's waist. He brushes his tongue against my lips, seeking entrance, and I open to mouth to allow him inside. He strokes my tongue with his, warm and wet, and we start to kiss properly – mouth working, breath coming in small gasps as our hands caress every inch of each other that we can reach.

"George. . ." Fred whispers against my mouth. "I love you too. I always have."

I feel stupid tears prick the corners of my eyes, blurring my vision slightly. Fred pulls back and laughs softly, wiping them away with his thumbs. "You always were a crybaby," he teases, his voice gentle and loving.

"It's your fault," I protest. He plants a soft kiss on my mouth and takes hold of my hand, pulling me back towards his bed.

"Fred. . ." I say, glancing at the door. "What if someone. . .?"

"Easy," he picks up his wand and cast a locking spell on the door. "There. Now we can do what we want, Georgie."

"Are you sure?" I ask him. "Is this what you want?"

"I told you, didn't I?" he says, smiling reassuringly at me. "I love you. I want you."

"Even though it's wrong?" I say. "We could never tell anyone."

"It's none of their business." He stroked my hand with his thumb. "Are you scared?"

"Are you?"

"No," he shakes his head, staring directly into my eyes. "C'mon."

We sit down on his bed and he kisses me again, bringing his hands up to cup my face, his fingers stroking my cheeks. I push him down so he's lying on his back with our bodies pressed against each other, our heartbeats racing in unison. I can't believe this is actually happening, after all my fantasies. I'm half expecting to wake up and find myself back at square one.

Fred puts his hands on my chest and pushes me into a sitting position. For one horrible moment I think he's changed his mind, but he's still smiling, his lips pink from my kiss. He reaches to his bedside table and pulls a tube of lubricant out from behind his alarm-clock, handing it to me.

"You can be the top tonight," he says. "But next time it's my turn."

"You've got a deal," I smirk. My fingers are shaking slightly with excitement as I uncap the tube and slick myself with a generous amount of the cool, clear gel. I also smear some on Fred's awaiting entrance to lessen the pain upon impact. I part his legs and line myself up to his ass, placing one hand beside his head on his pillow and the other on my hardened member to guide it in.

"Ready?" I ask and he nods, closing his eyes and biting his lip slightly as I begin to slowly push myself in. He gives a small gasp when the head is all the way in. I pause to give him a moment to adjust, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss to distract him from the pain. "Keep going," he breathes and I ease myself in more, a little at a time, until I'm buried in to the hilt. By this time, I feel like I've just fallen into Heaven about eight times. His breath is coming in frantic gasps, his eyes hooded with pain and lust.

"Is it too much?" I ask, starting to pull out, but he grabs my hips and tugs me back into him. "It's. . . fucking. . . amazing," he laughs breathlessly and I smile down at him. "Move," he commands, and I begin to rock my hips against his ass, causing him to throw his head back in ecstasy. I pull out to the tip and then push back in again, feeling the bed knock against the back wall.

"Oh, fuck. . . George. . ." Fred gasps, his fingertips digging into my back. I knock his arms away and lift his legs into the air, resting the crooks of his knees on my shoulders, giving me easier access to thrust into him. It feels so damn good – he's so tight and the expressions and noises he's making are driving me crazy with lust. I don't last long – how could I after waiting this long? – and when I empty my warm load deep into him, he throws his head back and cries out long and loud. "Ahhh!"

"I love you, Fred," he gasp, still thrusting into him, riding out my orgasm. "I love you so damn much."

"I. . . love you. . . too," he breathes, his whole body trembling. I pull out and collapsed on top of him, utterly spent. We lie there for a while, panting, unable to believe how good that felt.

"Why've we not been doing that all this time?" Fred asks and I laugh. He cups my face in his hands and kisses me softly. "I guess it goes without saying that this doesn't leave this room?"

"Yeah," I say, propping myself up on my elbow. "Unless we move into another room."

"True," he grins and we share a long kiss, deep and passionate. "But can you imagine Mum's face?"

I consider it for a moment.

"I think she'd be less horrified if Ron told her he was engaged to Hagrid."

"Yeah," he says. "Imagine the children."

We lie there laughing for a few minutes until I give a wide yawn.

"Tired?" Fred asked, stroking the side of my face.

"Are you surprised?" I ask, turning over and winding my arms around him.

"Sleep tight, then," he says, kissing my forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too," I murmur, closing my eyes. The last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep is Fred's warm arms around me, and a feeling of indescribable happiness that I've never felt before.