Title: Tea Towels and Figwort
Gift For: [insanejournal.com profile] tsu_chan55
Summary: He leaned over and pressed his lips to George’s lightly, staring into startled blue eyes.
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1617
Author's Note: I hope this is to your liking, [insanejournal.com profile] tsu_chan55! Many thanks to my beta.

“I knew you added too much figwort.” George declared, voice completely devoid of any triumph in being right. He was slumped dejectedly on the stone floor, legs pulled up to his chest and chin propped up on one knee. His nails lightly scratched across one pale, unclad leg.

“Oh, come on, Forge!” Fred grinned, “It was just this once, and we’re fixing it right now, aren’t we?”

“Fixing it, Gred? How are we ‘fixing it’ precisely?” George scowled at the clothing scattered at a one-point-two meter radius around him. “I can’t even pick up my own underwear! Toss me another one, would you?”

“. . .well, it could wear off.” Fred grabbed up a tea towel and tossed it at his twin. “Besides, this potion should do the trick if you’d just let me finish brewing it.” They both watched as the towel got barely a meter from George before freezing in midair and then gently floating to the ground.

“. . .so it hasn’t worn off yet then.”

“I think this is the worst invention we’ve ever botched.” George muttered.

“Even when---”

“---we had that strip teasing incident two years ago---”

“---that Angelina never forgave us for.”

George fought to keep from grinning.

“And I suppose that this is even worse than the time we started growing miniature trees off our feet when we were eight.” Fred added.

“When we put dad’s schnapps in our cauldron? That’s a good memory.” He couldn’t keep from laughing. “That’s the first time I remember dad being more upset than mum.”

“Only because it was his favorite schnapps.”

“Yeah. . .I’m still mad at you, prat.” George forced the smile from his face and glared pointedly, waving one hand loosely about him. “You’re not going to distract me from this---hey, watch it! You’re adding too much ryllia seed!”

“I am not, Forge. Would you relax?”

“As I recall,” George grumbled, “I’m in this situation because you didn’t listen to me in the first place.”

“That was about figwort. Everyone knows you know more about figwort than I do. Now, ryllia, that’s my area of expertise!” He stirred the cauldron six times before casually tossing the spoon in the sink. “See? Now it just needs to sit for thirty minutes.”

“I’m not drinking that.”

Fred rolled his eyes. “We can test it out on Ron’s owl first. Now,” he grinned, “can we have some fun?”

“I’m all for public displays of sexual prowess, Gred, but---”

“It’s the perfect time.” Fred stalked toward his twin.

“---this is mum’s kitchen,” George grinned slightly. “If mum caught us, you know it’d be a fate worse than death.”

“Well, we’d better not get caught then, eh?” Fred inched closer. He came to a sudden halt with a wince.

“What is it?” George gave him a concerned look. “What happened?”

“Bloody hell,” Fred gasped. “I feel like I just walked into a brick wall.”

A minute of silence filled the room as Fred rubbed his chest. George was staring at him, or rather at the spot right in front of him. He watched as his brother shifted nervously, robes rustling softly at the movement, and then George started snickering softly.

“You’ve got your clothes on, Forge.” He laughed.

“You don’t have your clothes on, Gred, and I am unable to take advantage of you. I don’t see what’s funny about that.” Fred grumbled.

George smirked at him, “You have your clothes on, Fred. Cloth can’t get a meter near me, you’ll recall. I guess that ruins your plans to ‘take advantage’ then.” He stretched out deliberately, propping himself up on one arm, knowing his twin had a full view of his bare body. “Such a pity...” He brought his index finger to his lips, grinning mentally as Fred’s eyes stopped roving across his skin to lock onto his mouth. He flicked his tongue across his finger before pressing the digit into his mouth, his teeth dragging lightly across the soft pad.

Fred couldn’t look away from him, and George knew it. He grinned slightly. He couldn’t help but tease Fred a bit---who was definitely interested in where he was taking things, if the tent in his trousers was any indication. Lazily he released his finger, drawing a trail down to pinch lightly at first one nipple and then the other, gasping as the soft nubs hardened. Fred gasped in tandem.

“Sod it, you’re not leaving me out of this,” Fred groaned. He tugged at his robes, undoing the clasps as fast as he could before yanking off his T-shirt. His eyes never left the form of his brother.

“Mmm... You’d better hurry up then,” George moaned, smiling, eyes half shut. He traced light patterns down his stomach before moving lower. His hand slid into golden red curls, moving past his aroused cock to cup his balls and squeeze gently. “O-Oh fuck... You definitely want to hurry it up.”

Fred’s breath had picked up speed, hand frozen over his belt as he watched his brother. George’s cry spurred him into action and he jerked off his belt before yanking at both his trousers and pants. Carefully moving the constraining material past his erection, he shoved them down his thighs and kicked them off hurriedly.

“It’s about bloody time.” George groaned. He was watching Fred’s efforts, stroking the length of his cock steadily.

Free of his clothes, Fred pounced, pinning George to the floor with his body. He pressed his mouth to his twin’s, tongue swiping against his lips, demanding entrance. Fingers tangled in hair, mouths sealed together. George wrapped one arm around Fred’s waist as if trying to anchor himself, the other was trapped between them, still pressing against his length even as Fred’s hips pressed down against him.

They pulled back slightly in unison, both panting, trying to regain their breath. Fred pressed his face against George’s neck. “Stop jerking off.” He murmured raggedly. “I mean, don’t. Merlin! Stop getting yourself off so I can get you off.”

George laughed a little breathlessly, “I could hardly wait for you forever, now could I?” He pressed upwards. “And if you d-don’t fuck me now, Gred...”

“I think that’s something we both agree on, Forge.” Despite his words Fred didn’t quicken his pace. His hand ran lightly over George’s belly, eliciting a moan. His fingers slid along the inside of his thigh before curling around George’s cock, pumping it slowly. He caught his mouth in another, gentler kiss.

George arched upwards, moving into Fred’s hand. He was muttering under his breath, and Fred would have laughed to hear the soft litany of curse words escape George’s mouth if they’d been in any other position. In this position, the cursing only made him harder. He jerked down, rubbing his erection against George’s thigh almost frantically, groaning into the warm mouth pressed against his own.

He could feel George’s breathing speed up, felt his shoulders, stomach, and thighs tense. He sped up his own movements, hips thrusting against his twin. His hand moved faster over George’s cock, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

Gred!” George’s hips pushed upward, fingers digging into Fred’s back desperately as his come spilled into Fred’s hand.

Fred pressed down, jerking his hips against George as lights exploded behind his eyelids as he came. “Fuck, yes, Forge.”

George collapsed against the floor and Fred fell in a boneless heap on top of him, both of them gasping for air.



Fred rolled off of his twin carefully. They shared a look and grinned.

“Next time,” George declared, “You’re going to actually shag me.”

“Hey!” Fred glared over indignantly, “I shagged you this time!”

“That wasn’t a proper shag.”

“Sod you.” Fred muttered.

“‘S’all I’m saying,” George smiled sleepily. “I don’t have any complaints, mind you---”

“It sounded like a---” Fred began.

“Was that the front door?” George asked quietly.

They shared another look, this one containing quite a bit more worry. “Mum,” They said together. Fred leapt up, tossing George’s robes at him. George was already scrabbling to his knees, robes in hand, before he realized what just happened.


“What?” Fred looked up from grabbing his shirt. “Get dressed all ready, Forge!”

“I’m holding my robes!”


“Dammit, Gred, I’m holding my robes!

“...I guess we won’t have to test the potion out on Ron’s owl then.” Fred said a bit breathlessly.

“We could try it out anyway.” George grinned. “Just to see if it works.”

“Arthur? Ginny? Fred? Is anyone home?” The distinct voice of Molly Weasley rang through the house.

“George, stop holding those robes and put them on!” Fred urged, yanking on his trousers. He grabbed up their pants and shoved them into his pockets as George pulled his robes over his head and started straightening the collar.

Fred couldn’t help himself. He leaned over and pressed his lips to George’s lightly, staring into startled blue eyes. “I’ll bloody well shag you later, all right?” He whispered.

“You better.” George grinned at him before gently pushing him away.

“What are you two up to?” A voice demanded from the doorway.

“Ah, mum---”

What have you done to my kitchen?” Came Molly’s horrified screech. She dropped her bags of groceries onto the floor as she rushed over to the counter. “What is this? A cauldron! I told you boys, there is no brewing allowed in the house!”

“Sorry, mum. It was an emergency---”

“---a project we were helping---”

“---Ron with.”

“He said he’d clean it up.”

“We’ll just be going then!” They chorused and ran out of the kitchen. The last thing they heard as they dashed outside was, “And what are all my tea towels doing on the floor! Fred! George!


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dreaming memories

What you can do with your life has little to do with what's going on in the world and everything to do with what you see as possible.

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