Chapter Text
Chapter 1
George was quivering, the heat in his body rising. The agonising pull below his bellybutton told him how close he was, just a little more and he would surely explode. Pale freckled hands roaming his body, that familiar scent engulfing him, sweet yet spicy like gingerbread. His brother’s hot breath against his lips and all he could see was that fiery red of their hair.
“Hmm Fred, I’m gonna…aahh…”
George awoke with a sharp inhale, panting heavy as he came to his senses. A loud moan had startled him. Oh, dear Merlin, that did not just happen, was all he could think right now as he was staring at the wooden ceiling above his bed at the Burrow.
“You alright there, mate?” Fred’s voice came from the other side of their shared room. “Did you have a bad dream?” Fred was sitting upright in is bed on the opposite wall, knees pulled up and elbows resting on them. He gave his brother a slightly concerned look as he tilted his head.
“Eh… yeah, bad dream…”, said George slowly, hoping his twin wouldn’t recognise the faint blush on his face. The realisation of what he just dreamt was kicking in. How in the world could he have such a lewd dream about his own twin brother of all people? This was so wrong. He was so wrong. He could never let anyone know, what unspeakable perversions his brain was able to produce. The horror and shame he experienced about the pleasure he just felt moments ago filled up his body and occupied his mind. He didn’t notice how his brother was watching him.
Better not dwell on this too long, George thought, pulling back his duvet and sitting on the edge of his bed. Right as he stood up Fred’s amused voice caught his attention again.
“Oh ho, looks like it wasn’t a bad dream at all.” The grin on Fred’s face couldn’t be any wider,
he looked just as he did the day Ginny had told them about Percy having a secret girlfriend.
It was the boy’s biggest pleasure in life to prank and make fun of other people, so the biggest present you could give him was something to make fun of.
One unnerving moment later, George knew exactly what had made his brother so giddy and happy. When he followed his twin’s eyes and looked down at himself, he could see it, a nice dark wet stain on the crotch of his light grey jersey pyjama bottoms. If one could die of embarrassment, now would be a good moment. Fred just snickered as George franticly tried to cover himself, his face as red as his hair.
In hopes the floor would just open and swallow him, George threw himself back on his bed and pressed his pillow onto the evidence of his depravity. “Stop laughing, idiot!”
But the insult made the other just laugh louder. This might be the best Christmas ever, thought Fred, as he quickly got out of bed and crossed their small room to his brother’s side. He threw himself on top of his little brother, tackling him down and taking advantage of the fact that George’s hands were still occupied by holding his pillow between his legs. So, Fred just sat on his lap, trapping the hands underneath him. Seeing his brother so defenceless and flustered gave him a weird tingle somewhere deep inside him.
Fred wore the same pyjama bottoms as George, but to his dismay, Fred slept topless, which made George’s position right now, considering the circumstances, even more uncomfortable. Pinned underneath his half naked brother, who just gave him his first wet dream. Hands trapped between a pillow and… Fred’s arse. If he wiggled his fingers he could feel the soft flesh. What the hell was he thinking?!
And as if his suffering couldn’t get any worse, his lovely brother began to taunt him, pressing his shoulders into the mattress, leaning down, bringing their faces closer together. George stared open mouthed at the slim freckled chest right in front of him, completely lost in the sight, as if he had never seen Fred like this before, which wasn’t the case. They’d seen each other plenty of times, naked and all, but less openly since they started puberty. If you share a room, you just see stuff, no big deal, but somehow this moment was different. George was mesmerized by the way he could see the muscles move under that pale skin. It looked so smooth. If he could move his hands, he wouldn’t be able to help himself; he would touch it. He wanted time to stop so he could count all the little freckles that he knew so well but felt like he had never seen before.
He only snapped out of his trance as Fred began to speak again and he could feel his brother’s breath on his face. Hot and sweet and George couldn’t stand to look any longer, he turned his head to the side as a means to escape but that backfired quickly. Fred leaned down even further, breathing down his brother’s neck and speaking close to his ear in a low and menacing drawl,
“Aww, did my baby brother have his first big boy dream? Was it a girl from school?”
“No and I’m not your ‘baby brother’,”- George struggled unable push his brother off, he was way too aware of his gingerbready smell and how it stirred something in him- “you just happened to come out first! Now get off of me.” He ended that sentence with a buckle of his hips and finally Fred reclined, letting go of his brother and sitting up still straddling George.
“Grosse if you say it like that,” he said with a wrinkled nose.
Fred sighed as he got up from the bed, moved over to the closet and started to rummage around in there to fetch them something to wear for the day.
“Didn’t know you were such a prude, no need to be all shy and queasy about a stupid dream. The way you act it must have been a real banger, makes me kinda sad that you exclude me from your life just like that. Seems like I mean nothing to you after all.” With every syllable Fred’s voice got more theatrical and dramatic. George just rolled his eyes at the other boy’s antics and for that he got a Christmas jumper thrown right at his face.
It was a forest green jumper with a red pattern and Fred was holding a red jumper with the same pattern in forest green.
Even though the twins were teenagers now, going to turn 16 in just three months and a few days, they still tended to wear matching outfits. As if having the same face wasn’t enough. Fred put the jumper on and as his head emerged from the collar he had a mischievous grin on his face.
“How about…” Fred began to speak again in low conspiratorial voice, slowly moving back towards George’s bed, “I tell you about a dream that I had and then you tell me about yours? Then we’re even, right?” he wiggled his eyebrows as he spoke, stopping right in front of the bed.
“No thanks, I’ll pass on that,” said George nervously as he pushed past his brother, clutching his jumper to his chest and stumbling to the door. There was a weird tension in the room and he could no longer bear it, he needed to go. As curious as he was about his brother’s potential naughty dream, there was no way he would tell him about his and lying was not an option. Fred always knew when George wasn’t honest. He could read him like an open book, comes with growing up together and being so close like they were.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” he muttered and slipped through the door of their room.
“Obviously,” said Fred as his gaze followed his brother, his tone a mix of amusement and maybe, just maybe, a hint of disappointment.