From their side of the fence, it looked absolutely distasteful.
Most people couldn't understand how they enjoyed their sinful ways – the way they saw it, they had lived lives of filth; ivy vines with rotted thorns were wrapped all around their little world, highlighted by decayed, hardly visible grass and withered roses whose petals covered the otherwise barren ground with only each other to keep them company.
The way the world viewed them, one would have thought they were contaminated with an incurable illness.
Quite frankly, Fred and George didn't know what they were going on about, because from where they sat, everything opposite their side of the fence looked utterly dull – their worlds were painted in shades of grey that hardly ever varied. People were trapped in the minds of mundane reality, insights hindered by the limits society – Wizard or Muggles alike – had placed upon them.
And maybe, for that, they were indeed sick and disgusting, because their taboo was one that was placed on a universal scale of unforgiveable; after all, not many can admit to the fact that they were deeply attracted to and in love with their own brother.
George is currently thinking vaguely of their incestuous love as his identical lover's tongue wraps skillfully around his own after a long, heated night – an hour has easily passed after shop as closed, in which time the world around them has become an unknown blur of faces and names.
In truth, it was very hard to feel like a sinner, because there was just something within Fred that kept him here; with him, he didn't feel like their kisses were poison, sick with sin and pregnant with taboo…here, it had felt like this was how they were always meant to be.
"Ah…" The elder Weasley moans as a trail of saliva is created between them, tickling his porcelain flesh while the younger Weasley begins to nip and kiss at his jawbone. "F-Fred…"
"Yeah…?" Fred groans lowly into the junction of his neck, though his uttered question is pointless – he knows just what George is pleading for and can feel the need just by the way his chocolate-colored irises had glimmered lustfully in the moonlight.
"I need you…"
"Hmn…" The younger chuckles and steals a heated kiss from his lover. Temptations to tease entertain what little part of Fred's mind is capable of rational thought at that moment, but when he takes a second glance at the way his lover's features are contorted into desperate need – brows knitted, eyes half-lidded, lips parted just ever-so-slightly and damp rustic copper locks carefully framing all of this – it is impossible to resist.
Wands lay useless upon their nightstand; tonight, the younger Weasley is slick enough for the both of them, and George would bear no patience – he had meant what he said when he uttered the word now.
They are silent for a few sweet moments. Lips meet, and, of course, like every last part of them, they fit with perfect symmetry unmatched by any typical couple. Porcelain thighs are parted wide; lithe, angled hips slip through the gap and a sharp, pleasured whimper escapes the elder Weasley as he is penetrated by Fred.
"Fuck…" A low hiss escapes the younger twin as he feels his love arch his back and clench himself tight around his throbbing shaft. "You're so tight…"
George groans lowly in response, filed-down nails digging into his brother's fleshy back. There is a flash of brown in Fred's vision as the elder twin opens his eyes slightly. A sly, weak smile is fitted on his slightly chapped lips as he reaches up to give Fred a kiss.
Any words that either twin wanted to say fade away – soon, the younger twin lets the animal seize his every sense and begins to rock his hips slowly into his lover.
"God yes…" The elder twin loves every moment of this; loving every single inch of his Fred sliding in and out with the most care and pleasure as conceivably possible. A heated groan escapes George every time he feels the swollen head reach in as deep as it can go, and whimpers lowly whenever Fred is threatening to pull out and leave him in this state of lustful need. "Fuck…go harder, love…"
His brother obeys, hips rocking faster while his calloused hands grope and massage at George's bare chest. An occasional meeting of the lips here and a few nipple twists there earns Fred a rather hot moan and easier access to George's sweet spot as porcelain thighs spread just a little wider.
"God yes…yes…" The elder Weasley begins to match the quickened pace, hips meeting furiously with the resulting sound of flesh slapping against flesh. Every single thrust delivered by the younger Weasley is pinpoint to his lover's weakness, and with every one, George is raising himself up to be half-way sitting with support from Fred's embrace.
"Oh fuck, baby…yeeees…Fred!" The low groans are broken as the final thrust delivers George to nirvana first. A few more hasty, sloppy thrusts follow before Fred too releases, spilling himself deep into his twin. After several moments of regaining composure, George relinquishes his grip on Fred's back slightly and gives him a soft kiss on his lips.
"I love you, Freddie…"
"I love you too, Georgie…"
Several more kisses are shared between the pair before they fall back into the mattress and cradle each other silently in the thin ray of moonlight streaming through their window. Sleep is such a peaceful idea, but there are a few unsaid words that linger about them and for the twins, unbroken silence is a horrible thing.
"Mmn…" The younger twin gives his lover a soft peck on the lips. "Yeah?"
"Do you ever think…do you ever think about us as an incestuous couple?"
"We are incestuous…" Fred concurs.
"Yes, but…" George knits his brows slightly in thought. "Does that make us filthy sinners?"
"I dunno…" Fred purses his lips slightly as his own way to show he is in thought. "To most people, definitely…"
"What do you think~?"
"Me personally? Well…I never really gave that any thought…"
George smiles slightly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into his lover's bare chest. "I figured not…that's why I'm asking you now, to see what you make of it…"
"I take offense to that." Fred murmurs, feigning shock. "You make it sound like I never think…"
"You tend not to…"
George takes his offer literary and does so, leaving a faint mark that fades in seconds.
"I didn't mean that…"
Fred huffs, but closes his eyes with an amused smile as a light pause hangs over the pair. After a moment, it is George that breaks this silence again.
"Really, though…what do you make of it?"
"Well...honestly, I don't give a damn…I mean, why should people give a fuck what we are and what we aren't? The truth of it is, I love you, George, and I don't really care if that makes me some sort of 'filthy sinner'…" Fred pauses, wrapping his arms more securely around his love. "Besides, can sinners be this happy? I would imagine them as miserable…"
"I can agree with that." George whispers into porcelain flesh. The silence that hangs now is very feint, as the twins are about ready to fade out into the world of peaceful slumber until -
"What do you make of it, Georgie? Are we filthy sinners in your eyes?"
"Honestly?" A light smile passes over the elder twin's lips. "When I look at things from our side of the fence…absolutely not."
"I was hoping to hear you say something like that."
George gives Fred's chest a quick kiss before relaxing into his arms and letting sleep become his guide.
People could complain about their side of the fence being wilted and disdainful all they pleased, but unless they hopped over Fred and George's lovely, picket white fence, they would simply never understand that things were always more beautiful over here from the start.