Notes: This is my first Harry Potter fanfic, and contains TWINCEST! If this offends you, go away and don't bother to flame me, it ain't gonna make me change. Anyway, I would greatly appreciate feedback to let me know if this is any good and if I should write some more Fred/George fiction. Enjoy and review!
People would think it was sick and wrong if they ever found out. They would be disgusted, horrified. They would shun us, turn away from us and ignore us. But what they don't realise is, it isn't sick and wrong. It is beautiful and natural and right.
When people speak of love, they speak of someone who is always there for them, who understands and comforts them, who stands by them no matter what, someone who is the other half of their soul.
Well, that's what he is to me. Always has been, always will be.
And that's what I am to him. Always have been, always will be.
When I was stealing cookies from the jar, he was giving me a boost because it was on a high shelf and I couldn't quite reach it.
When he was stealing Bill's broom to play with, I was keeping watch outside to make sure no one came and saw us.
When I was scared of the thunderstorm, he was there to hold me and keep me safe, assuring me that it was alright, that nothing bad would happen.
When he was scared of the huge spider in the bathtub, I grabbed a book and squished it, washing the remains down the drain.
And then, things stopped being him and me, and started being just us.
We began to stop sleeping in our own beds and just share one, wrapped up in each other's warmth and knowing that we weren't alone. We stopped having separate baths and started sharing, laughing and splashing and seeing who could hold their breath under water for longer. We stopped eating separate dinners and just ate what we wanted off each other's plates.
That didn't change when we got to Hogwarts, but we did learn to be a little more careful, a little more subtle. We went to our own beds and lay awake until our roomates were asleep before one of us would sneak to the other's bed, and we became a tangle of limbs until the morning when the other would sneak back to his own bed. When we stole food from each other's plates, we laughed and joked, teasing each other about our actions so no one would suspect that it wasn't a joke. We had to be extra careful about the baths thing, making sure that no one saw the other going into an occupied bathroom.
We never thought anything of our relationship, because it had always been that way. We weren't two people, we were one person in two bodies. We had our own thoughts, sure, but we were always the same. We never disagreed on something, rarely went anywhere alone, and things were fine. Things were perfect. Or so we thought.
The truth was, there was something missing, something that wasn't there in our perfect existence, and we were in our fourth year before we realised it.
Everyone around us was dating or seeing someone, was chatting about who they liked and why. We ignored it at first, it held no interest in us, but then we came across a sixth-year couple kissing in a dark corner of the library, and we both thought, What would that be like?
So, we decided to try it. Now, at first we thought we'd grab a couple of girls like everyone else, before we realised two things. One: since when did we want to be like everyone else? And two: none of the girls interested us.
I'm not sure who was the first one to suggest it, because it doesn't matter, but the suggestion was made that we try kissing each other. The suggestion was deemed good and we went up to our room to try.
It was... strange. We were clumsy in our experience, not quite knowing what to do, but something inside us, clicked, something told us that this was right. And then the clumsiness faded and it became hot and electric, passionate and tender.
We spent quite a few hours talking about that kiss, and realised that we had been idiots to think of trying to find other people. Who else was there for us? We had always been there for each other, always understood each other, always been everything to each other. No one else could compete with the bond we had.
But we knew that society wouldn't accept our relationship. We knew exactly what would happen if people found out exactly what our relationship was.
So we hid it. It wasn't hard, people are very blind to what they don't want to see or don't expect to see.
Whenever someone found us pressed close together in some dark corner, we told them to go away, we were plotting here, and they just went away, none the wiser. When our roommates noticed the rumpled sheets on one of our beds, we would blush and mumble about nightmares, and they would just take us at our word. When we were sloppy enough to actually get caught brushing our hands together when we couldn't stand not to, we just gave whoever saw a glare that made them believe we had passed something secret between us.
So the people around us, including our closest friends and family, continued to believe we were nothing but close twins who loved each other in a brotherly way, and we continued to have the most loving, tender relationship we could ever imagine.
I don't know what my life would be like with him, and I don't really want to think about it. It makes me cold to imagine going through life alone, without my twin there to back me up, to share in the glory and the punishment both. I honestly don't think I could survive with him by my side, giving me support and comfort.
He shifted behind me, rubbing his cheek against my shoulder like a cat, and dropping a light kiss there.
"Stop thinking, you're keeping me awake," he murmured, his leg sliding over mine.
"What time is it?" I asked back, glancing at the window and wishing it weren't so cloudy so I could judge the time.
"We've got a couple of hours yet. Sleep, George."
I smiled, running my hand along his arm where it was wrapped around my waist. Outside, the sky began to lighten and I knew that I would have to get up soon and retreat to my own cold and lonely bed, but for now, I could stay, wrapped in the comforting embrace of my lover, knowing that I wasn't alone, and I never would be.
People would think it was sick and wrong if they ever found out. They would be disgusted, horrified. They would shun us, turn away from us and ignore us. But what they don't realise is, it isn't sick and wrong. It is beautiful and natural and right.
When people speak of love, they speak of someone who is always there for them, who understands and comforts them, who stands by them no matter what, someone who is the other half of their soul.
Well, that's what he is to me. Always has been, always will be.
And that's what I am to him. Always have been, always will be.
When I was stealing cookies from the jar, he was giving me a boost because it was on a high shelf and I couldn't quite reach it.
When he was stealing Bill's broom to play with, I was keeping watch outside to make sure no one came and saw us.
When I was scared of the thunderstorm, he was there to hold me and keep me safe, assuring me that it was alright, that nothing bad would happen.
When he was scared of the huge spider in the bathtub, I grabbed a book and squished it, washing the remains down the drain.
And then, things stopped being him and me, and started being just us.
We began to stop sleeping in our own beds and just share one, wrapped up in each other's warmth and knowing that we weren't alone. We stopped having separate baths and started sharing, laughing and splashing and seeing who could hold their breath under water for longer. We stopped eating separate dinners and just ate what we wanted off each other's plates.
That didn't change when we got to Hogwarts, but we did learn to be a little more careful, a little more subtle. We went to our own beds and lay awake until our roomates were asleep before one of us would sneak to the other's bed, and we became a tangle of limbs until the morning when the other would sneak back to his own bed. When we stole food from each other's plates, we laughed and joked, teasing each other about our actions so no one would suspect that it wasn't a joke. We had to be extra careful about the baths thing, making sure that no one saw the other going into an occupied bathroom.
We never thought anything of our relationship, because it had always been that way. We weren't two people, we were one person in two bodies. We had our own thoughts, sure, but we were always the same. We never disagreed on something, rarely went anywhere alone, and things were fine. Things were perfect. Or so we thought.
The truth was, there was something missing, something that wasn't there in our perfect existence, and we were in our fourth year before we realised it.
Everyone around us was dating or seeing someone, was chatting about who they liked and why. We ignored it at first, it held no interest in us, but then we came across a sixth-year couple kissing in a dark corner of the library, and we both thought, What would that be like?
So, we decided to try it. Now, at first we thought we'd grab a couple of girls like everyone else, before we realised two things. One: since when did we want to be like everyone else? And two: none of the girls interested us.
I'm not sure who was the first one to suggest it, because it doesn't matter, but the suggestion was made that we try kissing each other. The suggestion was deemed good and we went up to our room to try.
It was... strange. We were clumsy in our experience, not quite knowing what to do, but something inside us, clicked, something told us that this was right. And then the clumsiness faded and it became hot and electric, passionate and tender.
We spent quite a few hours talking about that kiss, and realised that we had been idiots to think of trying to find other people. Who else was there for us? We had always been there for each other, always understood each other, always been everything to each other. No one else could compete with the bond we had.
But we knew that society wouldn't accept our relationship. We knew exactly what would happen if people found out exactly what our relationship was.
So we hid it. It wasn't hard, people are very blind to what they don't want to see or don't expect to see.
Whenever someone found us pressed close together in some dark corner, we told them to go away, we were plotting here, and they just went away, none the wiser. When our roommates noticed the rumpled sheets on one of our beds, we would blush and mumble about nightmares, and they would just take us at our word. When we were sloppy enough to actually get caught brushing our hands together when we couldn't stand not to, we just gave whoever saw a glare that made them believe we had passed something secret between us.
So the people around us, including our closest friends and family, continued to believe we were nothing but close twins who loved each other in a brotherly way, and we continued to have the most loving, tender relationship we could ever imagine.
I don't know what my life would be like with him, and I don't really want to think about it. It makes me cold to imagine going through life alone, without my twin there to back me up, to share in the glory and the punishment both. I honestly don't think I could survive with him by my side, giving me support and comfort.
He shifted behind me, rubbing his cheek against my shoulder like a cat, and dropping a light kiss there.
"Stop thinking, you're keeping me awake," he murmured, his leg sliding over mine.
"What time is it?" I asked back, glancing at the window and wishing it weren't so cloudy so I could judge the time.
"We've got a couple of hours yet. Sleep, George."
I smiled, running my hand along his arm where it was wrapped around my waist. Outside, the sky began to lighten and I knew that I would have to get up soon and retreat to my own cold and lonely bed, but for now, I could stay, wrapped in the comforting embrace of my lover, knowing that I wasn't alone, and I never would be.