He slammed the door shut and made a beeline for his bed, shedding clothes as he walked. Giving a huff, he flopped onto his bed, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his stomach.
"Bad date?" George asked from the bed beside him. His voice was just above a whisper, low and full of sympathy.
"Yea" Fred sighed, images of the night flashing through his mind. He remained silent, his head clouded with emotions, until blurting out "Angela and I had sex, again, and it still didn't feel good"
"What? How can sex not feel good?" George sat up in his bed. "Angela is well fit, turns everyone on, even Harry, and he's meant to be devoted to our sister"
"Yea, well, she's hot, but it just didn't feel right". He kept thinking of her body, of her curves and full breasts. Her soft moan and the curve of her neck as her breathing escalated.
"What, Fred, what didn't feel right? You bag the girl of our Quidditch dreams, bang her, and it doesn't feel right?"
"Shut up, alright!" Fred sat up, swinging his legs over the bed and proceeding to fully strip. "I dunno, she's just too soft and curvy… It's not like we haven't seen it all before – we shower together three times a week! Besides" everything was off now, "there are other people just as fit I'd like to shag and they'd probably feel better."
George went still at this, contemplating his brother's thoughts.
"Well, fuck Fred, who, Harry?"
George bolted up straight, swinging his legs over the bed and stared straight at his brother. He didn't speak, just waited for the answer.
The silence was palpable in empty room, devoid of all occupants but the two brothers. George slowly lay back down and re drew his blankets. The silence said everything.
"It's not just Harry" Fred finally said. "It's more his body. It's so toned and hard. Fuck… I just…"
"Yea, I get it"
They lay in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. The room was slightly cold, despite the roaring fire at the centre and Fred shivered as a gust of wind flew through the open window. His head was aching with the confusing thoughts and his body felt unsatisfied, as if getting sex on a regular basis should be different, better. His fists clenched in frustration and his eyebrows creased, frown lines forming and erasing the face of all laughter.
Although it was dark, George could sense his brother's distress, the emotion reaching across the divide of the two beds. He threw off the covers and quickly moved over to Fred's bed. A short moment later and the two brothers were hugging, bodies entwined under the blankets and each head resting on the others shoulder. They were naked, but it didn't matter.
Fred moved his head against the warm shoulder, muttering "I wish it had been Harry I'd fucked tonight. Then maybe I'd feel satisfied."
"I could satisfy you"
"Not in the way I want"
George paused before responding, "We're twins. What you want is what I want"
At this he dropped his hand to rest over a butt cheek, while spreading out the other over the small of Fred's back. The skin where George was touching was hot, getting hotter. Fred stirred, stimulated. Turned on.
He moved his head. Now they were cheek to cheek.
"George, I want more than this. I've always wanted more than this. Harry's hot, but by Merlin – you're so much hotter" He moved his head and kissed his ear, moving his hands to pinch at the bony hips in front of him. His fingers explored the skin, brushing across the narrow waist, skimming over the fair hair, tracing up to play with the belly button.
Both boys let their hands wander, intent un-know as they came to life. They had touch each other before, even assisted in wanking once or twice back in third year. But this felt different. Each brother's sexual desires were awakening, this age old taboo being broken.
Well they were never much one for rules anyway.
George began to suck on Fred's earlobe, his tongue exploring and his hot breathe caressing his cheek. He knew it was one of Fred's few soft spots and he loved the moans that followed. He slowly began to shift his hips, circle them, push them against the others. They were both hard and knew exactly what they wanted. George moved his hand to skim across Fred's stomach, leaving a trail of heated flesh, and gripped onto Fred's erection, sucking his earlobe and pushing himself, feeling every plane of Fred's body.
The ear-sucking he could handle. The wristy? Too much. Fred was the dominate of the two and they both knew it. He'd read all of Lee's anime comics and pegged George for a Flaming Uke. Meaning Fred was going to fuck him and actually feel good about it.
He lifted his arms away from the two butt cheeks he had just been groping to grip George's head. He pulled it back from the side of his neck (where love bites were sure to be forming) and looked into his twins face.
This was it. The thin edge of the wedge. If they went any further, tomorrow morning would be a bitch. He needed to know, needed to be sure, that this was what his brother wanted. By the way their erections bumped together as George moved his hand and by the erratic breathing from both of them, this mutual masturbation was a-o-fucking-k, but that didn't stop this need for permission.
Fred searched George's face, looked deep and hard. He was quivering from the heat of the moment and what it would mean for tomorrow and always. George could just see him as stalling. He made the move, ducked his head forward and fiercely kissed Fred's lips, his hand moving faster at their erections.
"Fuck! Just… Fuck!"
Fred awoke, and dominated the kiss, his tongue relentlessly plunging in and out of the delicious cave of his twins mouth. He grabbed George's thigh and hoisted it upwards, simultaneously casting a silent lubrication spell – well worth paying attention in potions. One hand went to grab George's hands, gripping them tightly and moving them above both their heads, while his other moved from holding his thigh to fingers pressing at the entrance to what promised to be a "good time".
He pushed one finger in and groaned inadvertently, his dick growing harder, with the blood rushing to his nether regions – and his cheeks. Another finger in, and yet another, Fred was in heaven. This was his favorite part, this small taste of what was to, cough, come. George's passageway was tight and slick, just the way he liked it. George himself was reduced to a quivering, moaning mess, eyes squeezed tight and breathing erotically erratic.
He pulled out his fingers and pressed the blunt head of his dick at the hole, sinking in a mere inch and waiting. It was excruciating pleasure for the both of them. George was moaning, pleading, begging for more, his body taunt and straining towards that small piece of pleasure. His dick twitch and he almost came as Fred shifted and moved in yet another inch, stretching the hole so little, so very fucking little. It was driving George insane.
"Fuck Fred! I can't… I need… fuck I need…"
The movement was killing him, but George's pleasure was all worth it. This is what Angela could never give him, this sense of fullness, this innate ache to want more, to fuck, to go hard and fast and leave bruises that would always revile the truth of the previous night.
He pushed in with a feral groan, ending the torture, pulling out again almost immediately. Fred was fast, furious, intent on giving as much pleasure as possible. He deliberately aimed for that one spot again and again, relentlessly pounding at all George's senses. His hand moved again to his thigh, pulling it upwards, giving him leverage.
It was too much. George came with a scream, Fred's hand immediately moving to his erection and pumping it haphazardly, intensifying the orgasm, allowing him to stay suspended in bliss a small moment longer.
His face. Oh Merlin, his face.
Fred focused on his twins face, his twins warm come on his chest, his twin squeezing his dick inadvertedly, his twins pure post-coital bliss, as he came. Powerfully.
His body fell on top of the identical one, completely and utterly spent. They were both panting and shaking, their sweat mingling. George pulled down his hands and wrapped his arms around his brother, around the joy of his life.
Hard muscles shifted to hold his lover, while Fred snuggled into the warm embrace and promptly fell asleep. George stared at the ceiling, his mind now clear.
"Why fuck girls when I can fuck my brother?" He thought, before closing his eyes, never letting go.
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