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Special Time	By : starstruck86 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4462 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Special Time
- 1
Title: Special Time

Pairing: Fred Weasley/George Weasley

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: ~1,467

Warnings/Content: Slash. Weasleycest. Oral. Voyeurism. Accidental aphrodisiac usage, desperate!George, dirty talk.

Special Time

"Fuck."
Fred heard the whispered curse in a pause in the conversations over the dinner table. He looked at his twin and tried to catch his eye, to see what was wrong. George was flushed in the face, it seemed, and there was something desperate about the way he was licking at his bottom lip.
"Thanks for the dinner, mum," Fred announced, deciding it was time to beat a hasty retreat. "But George and I need to get back to the shop. Busy, busy, busy."
He got to his feet and bent to kiss her on the cheek, sending George a meaningful look which his twin luckily interpreted in the correct way. George immediately jumped up and rounded the table.
"You work yourselves too hard," came the reproachful reply from their mother.
Fred waited whilst George kissed her goodbye.
"See you lot later," he announced, and closed his fingers around George's wrist, jerking him into a side-along apparation without asking permission.
They landed in the tiny flat above their shop and he immediately shoved his brother onto the sofa.
"What?" he asked, narrowing his yes. "You've got a face like Ron when we tease him about the size of his cock."

"The size of mine is the problem," George groaned, and Fred watched with fascination as his double reached down and palmed his cock through his jeans. "I think... I think I must have inhaled some of that aphrodisiac earlier when we were working with them."

"Brilliant!" Fred declared. "Now we know they work and we can get selling them."

"Hello?!" George cried. "Have you ever tried sitting through one of mum's dinners with a raging stiffy?"

"Many a time." Fred grinned. "Fuck, I've even had a wank under the kitchen table and none of you noticed."
George's eyes widened at the very thought and Fred laughed out loud.
"It's not funny!"

"How much do you want to come right now?" Fred teased.

"So much." George groaned and touched himself again.

"Well... for a fee, I could be persuaded to lend a helping hand..."

"I don't need your help!"
Fred let George undo his jeans and pull his erection out before he spoke again.
"Oh, so you don't want the blow job I was going to give you, then?"

"Fuck."

"Maybe that too."
He dropped to his knees on the floor and inhaled the scent of his brother from the air; it was thick but not unpleasant and he stretched out his tongue to taste the familiar taste. George gasped at the first contact and jerked his hips; Fred pinned them to the sofa with a hand apiece on each.
He taunted the tip of George's cock with his tongue, gently flicking against it with extra spit, until his brother was begging beneath his breath for more.
"Speak up," Fred advised. "I can't hear you."

"Please, suck me..."

"How much d'you want me to suck you, Georgie?"

"So much!"

"Do you want me to drink you down?"

"Yeah..."

"Do you want to come all over my face?"

"Nngh!"
Grinning, Fred resumed his task, and swirled his tongue around the head, finding moisture gathered on the slit. It was that moisture which told him just how desperate his twin was -they weren't normally damp boys, not compared to some, who seemed to flood the space between them before they'd even come.
"Good boy," Fred murmured, before closing his lips around George's shaft and humming a short, sharp shock.

"Fuck!" George cried. "Fred, please don't fuck with me, just get me off, now... I can't deal with this..."

"Doesn't it feel good? It'll feel so good when you come... you'll never stop... it'll go on and on and on..."
George let out a noise akin to a sob and threw his head back on the sofa with his eyes rammed shut. Whilst his brother wasn't watching, Fred took the opportunity to spell off his jeans and leave him naked on the bottom half, his heavy sac resting on their lumpy, old sofa. He ducked his head further to lap at them, taking care to cover every inch of wrinkly flesh before dragging his tongue up the seam and all the way to the tip of the straining attached erection. He dipped into the moisture again and relished the taste.
"Georgie... I never get to see you this desperate," he taunted. "I want to see you like this more often... maybe I should start spiking your drinks..."

"You wouldn't."

"I might... something in your morning tea... to keep you horny throughout the day... God, I'd love that power."
He smooched a French kiss into George's belly to frustrate him. He dipped his tongue into his navel and began to fuck it, adding more and more spit until George wriggled and begged him to stop.
"What if I never stopped?" Fred asked, putting his mouth close to George's dick so that his hot breath tickled it as he spoke. "What if I tied you up and just kept on at you, licking away, making you come and come until there was nothing left... and then a little bit of rest before starting all over again? You'd like that, wouldn't you, Georgie? You're such a good little slut you'd do it... and enjoy it... and beg me for it!"

"Yes!" George cried. "Fuck, do it. I want it and you... please."

"Nope."
Fred pulled up and took his brother in hand instead of in his mouth. He began to pump, slowly at first, before speeding up his rhythm until the head became purpled and painful looking.
"What if, when you come, it doesn't feel any better?" Fred asked. "What if you just want more?"

"Then you'll give me more," George panted. "Won't you?"

"Will I?"
His question went unanswered as George went rigid and creamed over his hand in long, hard spurts, crying out his relief and pleasure. Fred watched with glee the fruits of his product's creation, and drank in the sounds of his desperate twin finally reaching climax.
"Oh Godric," George breathed. "That was... Shit!"

"What?" Fred paused, looking up at his frightened face.

"The door was ajar, and there was someone there watching. They ran when we locked eyes."
Fred jumped to his feet and raced to the door, throwing it open to look down the stairwell to the shop. There was nobody there and no sounds from below. He waited a moment before glancing back at George, sated and sticky on the sofa, worry etched over his previously blissful features.
Kicking the door shut with his foot, Fred pulled out his wand and spelled George clean and handed him back his jeans. Only when he was fully dressed again did Fred pull George down onto the sofa and into his arms, into an unusually peaceful cuddle. He kissed a freckled cheek and left his lips there. George said nothing and looked pensively at his knees.
"Who do you think it was?"

"Had red hair."

"A family member, then... and they stayed for the whole show, it seems."

"Must have done."

"Well then they couldn't have been too grossed out, otherwise they would have burst in and demanded to know what the fuck was going on."

"You think someone was watching because they liked what they saw?"

"It's possible. I mean, look at us, we're fucked up, no saying that there can't be another one in the family."

"Another what?" George asked tensely.

"Another man who enjoys 'special time' with his siblings."

"So wrong," George whispered.
Fred kissed his cheek again but said nothing. They had held the conversation too many times for anything new to be added to it. George shivered slightly in his arms and he tightened his grip to try and comfort him.
"Do you think that we can get through this one? We've had loads of near misses..." George trailed off.

"Well, you know my opinion. Fuck 'em if they can't cope with it." Fred said his piece absolutely, as usual.

"But it's not that easy."

"George, it really is. You just won't let it be. We will always give each other the absolute best because we know exactly what the other wants, and you can't deny that. Right now, when we're living together, and we've got the chance, why can't we just enjoy that?"

"Because it's wrong?" George provided the obvious answer.

"It's not," Fred protested fiercely. "Not between me and you. How could it ever be wrong, Georgie?"
The nickname, as he had hoped, seemed to melt through his twin's resolve and George leant into him fully, seeming to take comfort in his body warmth.
"Good sesh?" Fred whispered into his ear.

"Amazing," George admitted.

"I aim to please."
Fred smirked, and seriously began to consider his plan of daily tea spiking.
-fin-
- 1
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Special Time