The first time Fred kissed George, they were five years old. They'd accidentally seen their mum and dad kissing, not the perfunctory goodbyes and hellos at the fireplace every day, but slow and sweet in a way that George thought was probably gross, and Fred thought looked pretty fun. In the interest of experimentation, which they were both always up for, George agreed to try it with Fred.

It had been awkward, and warm, and at first all they'd been brave enough to do was press their mouths together the way mum and dad did in the morning. They bumped noses and giggled, then moved in and did it again, with a little tilt to their heads so freckled noses slid against plump cheeks and their lips meshed in a way that made Fred's heart race for no reason. Since they'd got the impression that the tongues were an important part of the experience, after a few seconds they bravely opened their mouths and tangled their small, clumsy tongues together. They both tasted of stolen biscuits and sour afternoon hunger, and when they broke apart they found that the colour had risen in their cheeks while they were plastered together, obscuring their freckles with red.

George was panting when they were done, and he could see that Fred was as well. "I dunno why," he said, confused and flushed, his whole body warm.

"But I wanna try it again," Fred replied shyly, taking George's hand and holding it comfortingly. He felt hot and light-headed, his stomach tight and strange. He met George's eye and understanding passed between them, the way it often did. "Later, though."

"Later," George confirmed, though he made lie of his own words by leaning forward for one last kiss, a simple press of lips that made Fred long for something he didn't understand, as their lips slid damp and sweet over one another.

They pulled away and grinned, then scampered off to see if they could use their flushed cheeks to wheedle some cool pumpkin juice and biscuits out of their mum. Even if they didn't quite get the point of kissing by itself, if it would get them treats, they were all for it.

---

The first time George touched Fred's prick on purpose, they were nine. George had accidentally walked in on Charlie in the loo, and seen his brother with one hand braced on the edge of the sink and the other, the closer one, wrapped around a prick that seemed huge and almost alien, stroking it and gasping, red-faced just the same way that Fred got after he and George kissed for awhile. Charlie had shooed his little brother off irritably, but George could tell from the way Charlie's hand kept moving just a little bit that it felt good to be touched that way, and if it was good he wanted to try it with Fred.

He'd rushed up to their attic room and found Fred just where he'd left him, on his back in bed staring up at the ceiling, where they'd managed to convince Bill to charm them a whole sky full of stars, though Bill had messed up the spell a bit and they had to make up their own constellations.

"That looks kind of like a gryphon," said Fred, pointing.

George looked up, eyes unerringly following Fred's finger, though no one else in the family ever could. "It does, a little," he agreed, crawling into their single bed and lying, not on his back like Fred, but curled around him, a hand sliding up under his shirt to rub his soft little belly. "I just saw Charlie touching his thing; he was all red and moaning like when we kiss," he said matter-of-factly, sliding his hand down toward the loose elastic on Fred's shorts. "Let me show you."

Fred didn't even hesitate, but shucked out of shorts and pants and even spread his legs a little. "I knew there was something about it," he said -- they'd talked a few times, about how it got hard sometimes and if that meant there was another purpose to their bits besides going to the bathroom. "Should I take my shirt off too?"

"Up to you," said George, sliding his hand down further, over the firmer flesh of his brother's groin, bare and freckled and pale just like his own. "This is all he was touching." George wrapped his fingers around Fred's prick, soft and warm and just a little damp from the heat, and he was surprised when Fred gasped and it twitched in his hand.

"That's... different than when I touch it to pee," said Fred, little hips moving as his prick grew from its quiescent state to a full erection, tip peeking out of the foreskin in a way he always thought looked rather like a tortoise that wasn't sure about sticking its neck out. When George moved his hand again, Fred whimpered -- he'd never felt anything so like it, and it made his whole body feel hot, hotter even than when they kissed. "Feels really good."

George grinned. "Brilliant. It's fun, watching you get all hot. Makes my thing hard, too." He bit his lip in concentration and started rubbing faster, trying to imitate what he'd seen Charlie do.

"Ow!" Fred protested, putting his hand down to stop George's motions. "That hurts, it's too... like rug burns."

"Hm." George tried to think back. Charlie's prick had seemed awfully shiny, maybe he'd got it wet? George brought his hand up to lick until the sweat was mingled with slippery spit and then wrapped it back around and started rubbing again. "Better?"

"Ohhhh, yeah," said Fred, hips rocking with George's motions. "It's brilliant, I've gotta do this to you... oh!" George was rubbing his clothed prick against Fred's side and that was brilliant, too, though he wanted to make sure that George would let him have his turn.

"You look good like this," said George, leaning up to steal a kiss. One turned into two, and somehow it was completely natural to stroke and snog all at once, tongues mingling and hand moving up and down the thumb-length of Fred's little prick. He started experimenting with different things, twisting and pulling, tugging back the foreskin to expose the cherry-like head, touching it to feel how the tip was different from the rest, the skin smoother and the texture softer, unlike the shaft was hard under its thin, loose skin. He teased a small fingertip over the little opening, thinking that he might have found it gross before he saw how good it made Fred feel.

Fred cried out softly and shuddered, his prick twitching and jerking in George's hand as something washed over him in a wave. "Completely brilliant," he said, feeling warm and sleepy, like he'd just played the best game of Quidditch ever and was lying in the grass in the sun, letting the glow of victory take the edge off of exhaustion.

"I'm glad," said George, a strange note to his voice as he looked at Fred's face. He'd never seen Fred make that expression before, or the one when he'd shuddered either, and he knew this needed to be their secret. He wouldn't share that face with anyone, ever, if he could help it.

Fred spent a few more minutes catching his breath while his little prick went slowly limp. George's fingers cradled it, then moved down to cup and stroke his tiny, hard bollocks, which felt lovely as well. "Let me do you, now," he said finally, rolling over on his side so they were front-to-front, one of their favourite positions for kissing.

George nodded gratefully -- he'd been starting to wonder if he'd have to do himself, the way Charlie had. "Lick your hand," he said, stripping off completely, though all he really needed to do was pull his prick out. He lay on his back with his arms behind his head, snuggled right up to Fred so he could feel Fred's prick and bollocks like a warm, soft animal curled against his hip; he fancied he could even feel Fred's pulse and that was a strangely comforting thought.

Fred got his hand nice and wet, then reached down and peeled back George's foreskin straight away. "It was extra good when you touched the tip," he explained, giving it a few pulls before he found a method where his whole hand moved over the shaft while his thumb could still stroke and caress the head, teasing into the slit with concentrated regularity.

It didn't take George nearly as long to find that new feeling, and he cried out, "Fred!" as he felt it wash over him, making his limbs twitch and breath catch. His balls ached a little after, and he was grateful that Fred moved his hand down to rub them, though that was almost too good after everything else.

"That's better than Quidditch," said Fred, grinning triumphantly over George's limp, sweaty form. "We've got to do that lots."

"But only with each other, right?" said George, bringing a hand down to curl around Fred's where it was still rubbing his bollocks.

Fred's grin widened and he leaned in to kiss his brother, feeling that they'd finally figured out what the point of kissing was after all. "Only with each other," he confirmed, giving George's balls a bit of a squeeze. "Promise."

---

The first time Fred sucked George's cock, they were at Hogwarts together. It was the end of their second year, and they'd been down in the Common Room playing Exploding Snap when they overheard a couple of older boys talking about what it took to convince a girl to suck one's prick. Their eyes went wide, minds both going to the very same place -- how good it must feel to use mouths for something other than kissing.

Charlie had explained about tossing off to them when they were nine, after he'd got over his embarrassment, and added in a few vague references to girls and "when they were older," so they hadn't been too shocked when they started spurting stuff at the end of a good wank as they got older. They'd even been curious enough to taste it, finding it all right but nothing to write home about. Though Fred and George had spent a lot of time touching each other everywhere to figure out what felt good, it had never occurred to them that they could put their mouths anywhere but together in a kiss.

They already knew this was going to be brilliant.

Fred practically dragged George upstairs, grateful for the Silencing spell Charlie had also taught them, and for the fact that their roommates were used to them falling asleep together in whichever bed was most convenient. They shut the curtains with a Sticking Charm and stripped off eagerly, snuggling up under the covers to kiss for long moments before Fred pulled away and said, "I want to try it."

George nodded eagerly, lying back against the pillows and spreading his legs, making an inviting tent under the covers. They'd figured out what they liked by now, touching with and without spit or oil or the slicking charm they'd learnt from Bill over the summer, and George's mind was already full of ideas for where else they could put mouths on each other. "Do my balls first," he said.

Fred laughed and said, "Already was." He loved George's balls, just starting to get ginger fur on them, warm and soft and mobile in such weird and interesting ways, and he couldn't wait to see how they felt on his tongue. He scrambled under the covers and laid himself out with George's bits in front of him like a feast, pausing to look under the red-filtered light for just a few moments. "You've got a freckle behind your balls," he said, touching it curiously before diving in. He started simply, licking up the seam in the middle, tasting salt and a little bit of sweet, smelling musk and sweat and skin, familiar but different, stronger with his face down here instead of his hand.

"S'gooood," said George a bit breathlessly; he was already hard, his prick twitching against his belly.

"Yeah, it is," Fred replied, then he began lapping at the skin, fascinated by the way it shifted and moved under his tongue. He experimented carefully, scraping with his teeth and getting a moan, sucking one tender bollock into his mouth and getting smacked when he sucked a bit too hard. He giggled and let it go with a really obscene popping sound, which just made him giggle more. "Too much?"

George nodded, then remembered Fred couldn't see him. "Yeah. It was good until you started sucking too hard. Really good." He spread a little wider, thinking how good that tongue would feel all over down there, and vowed to try it when he got his turn with Fred. "Don't stop."

Fred nipped at one of George's taut thighs. "Wasn't gonna," he said, then ran his tongue up the crease of George's hip. The sweat was sharper there, though it got less so the higher he went. Instead of going back down, he gave in to curiosity and licked the shiny head just where it peeked out of the foreskin, grinning to himself when George gasped.

"Wonder how hard I can suck this," said Fred impishly, sliding his tongue under George's foreskin, glad they'd washed up after Quidditch practice as the bitter-salt flavour got stronger. He brought up a hand and pulled the skin back, then took the whole head in his mouth like a lolly, swirling his tongue around it and sucking gently.

"H-harder," George whimpered, his hands finding Fred's hair and threading through it just to give him something to hold onto. "More, oh please!" He was already close, his whole body quivering with this new pleasure, a hundred times better than a hand. Fred's mouth felt like the thing his prick was meant to go into, hot and wet and perfect, especially when he sucked more inside, then started bobbing his head up and down, stroking with his whole mouth the way they'd used hands before.

Fred used George's sounds to gauge whether something was good, or better. He kept his teeth behind his lips after one slip got his hair tugged, and moved his tongue as much as possible, especially over the head on the upstroke. It was sloppy and, he suspected, not particularly skilled, but it didn't take long at all until George was coming, flooding his mouth with the bitter-bleach flavour of come. He swallowed as much as he could, letting the rest run down his chin and over George's emptied balls. He suckled a little more, until George pulled him away -- they always got like that after they came nowadays, too sensitive to keep touching. "Good?" Fred asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Brilliant," said George, his voice heavy with satiation. "Gimme a minute, ok?"

Fred crawled back up George's body and snuggled close, amused when George turned his head just enough to lick the seed off Fred's chin. "I can wait," said Fred placidly, knowing George was just as eager as he had been to try it out. It had been heady, powerful to be able to make George that desperate so easily, and Fred knew he'd found a new favourite pastime even as he fed George the taste of himself in a long, slow snog.

"Mmmm, s'better like this," said George, licking a stray droplet from Fred's neck. "Tastes good from your lips."

Fred blushed, as he always did when George said something sweet like that, which usually made George tease him for being a girl. "Tastes better from your cock," he said, covering his embarrassment with perversity.

George laughed. "I'll find out," he said impishly, kissing Fred one more time before sliding down beneath the covers. It was George that pushed Fred's thighs wide, teasing his fingers into the backs of Fred's knees, a move that never failed to turn Fred to pliant goo and didn't this time either.

"Ohhh, unfair," Fred moaned, even as he relaxed against the pillows, hips wriggling just a little with anticipation.

"All's fair," said George, their standard motto with each other, at least in bed. He pushed Fred's legs open and up, kissing up the back of one thigh until he could lap at the sweat gathered behind the knee, tracing the little spiral of freckles there with his tongue. Fred's hands came down to grab his ankles, spreading himself completely for George with the remarkable flexibility that they only ever displayed with one another. "Oh, that's perfect," said George, leaning back so he could see how Fred looked, splayed like this for him.

The light gave everything a sensual glow as it filtered through the red coverlet, washing out the details and making everything into a soft, shadowed image like a charcoal drawing, stippled with freckles here and there where the spots were dark enough to be seen despite the poor light. The blanket fell over Fred's chest, blocking the view of his face and making the whole thing seem abstract and pornographic, all the focus on Fred's hard cock, high balls and quivering hole, framed by freckled thighs and round, pale arsecheeks and just asking for attention.

Fred blushed more, grateful that George couldn't see his embarrassment. "Feels good," he said, with George's hands wandering over his thighs and arse, the thumb teasing his hole in a way they'd discovered together felt good enough to counter any lingering sense of filthiness. Or really, added an extra spice to everything, since they both knew they weren't supposed to do any of it, let alone the dirtiest parts.

"Gonna lick you everywhere," said George, making Fred shudder and mewl because he knew George would. He started by nibbling at the back of Fred's other knee first until Fred was nothing but goo, and then biting and licking his way up both thighs until he was face-to-face with all of his favourite bits of Fred. He pressed a soft kiss to Fred's left thigh where three freckles made a perfect little triangle.

"Please," Fred begged, though he wasn't sure for what. It was all new, even though George's hands had touched him a million times before, this was different with the wet slide of tongue, the sharp bite of teeth, the heat of George's breath on his skin.

"Everywhere," George breathed, working himself up to it a little even though his prick was already hard from the thought of licking Fred's dirtiest place, tonguing the little pucker that twitched and winked at him, just begging for it. He took a deep breath, smelling musk and sex and them, then leaned in and licked right over it with his tongue flat, tasting soap and skin, musk and a little bit of sweat but nothing too bad. Fred's moan made it worth it, made it more exciting than ever, and George did it again, and again, licking all around the wrinkled skin until all he could taste was his own spit.

"Please, oh please, I'm so close!" Fred pleaded, head thrashing back and forth and balls drawn up tight with need. He couldn't believe that George was licking his arsehole, would be disgusted if it didn't feel so brilliant, absolutely the best thing they'd ever done bar none. At least, he thought so until George's mouth closed over his cock, tongue toying with the foreskin and a little hum of satisfaction going straight to Fred's balls.

George was feeling very smug at having thought of the arse thing first, and he promised Fred's bollocks a thorough tongue-bath later as he gave in to Fred's needy pleas and sucked on the hard, salty prick. He let his hands wander as best he could, propping up on one elbow so he could fondle Fred's balls and arse, stroking over all the sensitive skin, pressing and tugging in the ways that had never failed to bring Fred off in the past, and didn't now either. He nearly choked when Fred came, but he managed to recover and swallow most of it, letting Fred's prick go free as soon as it stopped twitching and spurting.

Fred panted and gasped, letting his legs go so he could stretch, revelling in the glow of the best orgasm he'd ever had. He reached down and gave a tug on George's ear, saying, "Get... your arse... up here." When George came up for a kiss, Fred laughed and gave him one, then explained. "Other arse."

George grinned and complied quickly, throwing off the covers completely and turning so he was straddling Fred's head, legs spread and his hole shoved unabashedly into Fred's face. "You wanna try it?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

Fred didn't bother to answer, just shoved his face in George's crease and started licking, teasing his tongue into the wrinkles and even poking it inside just a little, though he was wary of what he might find if he went in too deep. George fell forward onto his elbows and found himself back where he'd started, with Fred's bollocks in the perfect position to give them the promised tongue-lashing, so he dove right in and started going at it, lapping like a kneazle with wide, slow licks.

With George's mouth on his balls, and George's arse at his mercy, Fred thought he might want to do this forever, stay just like this, licking and sucking, even scraping his teeth over the tender little pucker just to hear George whimper. The sounds vibrated around his balls in the best possible manner, and it wasn't long before Fred's prick had revived and begun demanding a second go.

Reaching under, Fred found that George was hard as well, and he pulled his face back just enough to ask, "Hand and mouth here," he licked the wet entrance once to demonstrate, "or suck you off again?"

George thought the universe was rather unfair altogether, giving him a choice like that between the two best things he'd ever felt. "I... fuck... what do you want?" He wanted to come however Fred was, make them mirror each other the way they sometimes did, with the exact same strokes, same rhythm, same heartbeats pressed together as they rocked themselves to completion.

"This, want this," said Fred, wanting more of George's musky crease, the sheer dirtiness overwhelming him, using his mouth this way when there were so many other options. He moaned when he felt George's mouth begin to mirror his, effortlessly tuning in to his movements until their tongues and hands were moving in concert, their release building as though they really were one person instead of two.

Fred was close already, again, and he could feel the fine tremors running through George's frame that meant he was on the edge, too. Fred dipped his tongue in, gave his wrist just that little twist, pressed a kiss just to the centre of George's arse as though it were lips, and came. George mirrored each movement, coming with a moan and a scrape of his teeth over the tender flesh of Fred's arsehole. Their seed mingled between their bodies into an indistinguishable mess, and Fred bit George lightly on one cheek before he let his head fall back. "That was perfect," he said, splayed and dirty and sweaty and grinning like an idiot.

"Yeah," said George, turning himself around tiredly and snuggling right up to Fred, heedless of the stickiness of both their bodies. "It really was, wasn't it?"

"We'll do that a lot," said Fred with a grin, leaning in to kiss George, tasting the same mix of come and arse on his mouth as lingered in his own. "But we'll brush our teeth after, right?"

George laughed. "Right," he said, kissing Fred again anyway and finding he didn't mind the taste so much, really. "We'll clean up really soon."

---

The first time George shagged Fred, it all started with a joke. They were in the boys' showers horsing around when some of the Seventh Year boys came in, talking loudly about the sorts of things older boys always talked about in the showers, girls and how far they'd gone with whom. Fred and George got under separate showerheads, and were both rinsing off when they heard something quite intriguing floating over the steam. "If you're so keen to stick it in someone's arse," said one of the voices, "why don't you pull Aloysius?"

"I don't bat for the other team," said another, sounding prissy amidst the rustling of cloth as the boys undressed.

"You're just saying that 'cos he wouldn't give you the time of day," said a third voice, thick with laughter.

"Nah, he's Muggleborn," said the first voice with a snort. "They've got some weird thing against shirtlifters."

"My bum is 'out' only," said the second boy primly.

"Then why're you so bent on putting your prick in Mathilda's arse?"

The rest of their conversation was lost as Fred and George rinsed their hair, minds whirling with possibilities. They'd been more and more daring since they'd discovered how good it felt to lick each other's arseholes, sticking their tongues in and even fingers sometimes, but they hadn't been sure it was even possible to put their pricks there. Now that they had confirmation, they were in tacit agreement to skive off the evening's revising and hide away in bed for a very personal anatomy lesson instead.

"I want you to do me first," said Fred, as soon as the curtains were closed and spells up for privacy. They hadn't even bothered to properly dress, wrapping towels around their waists and running to the room as though they'd forgot their pyjamas rather than having them wrapped up in their clothing, and Fred had already shed his and was lying back on the bed, legs spread and hair curling damply against the pillows.

George chuckled and found his wand, then let his towel drop and climbed up between Fred's spread thighs. He spent a few long moments just kissing Fred, snogging until they were both breathless and wanting, hard cocks rubbing together and hands wandering. George stole a last kiss and sat back, smiling affectionately down at Fred, laid out beneath him like a feast. "Open wide, then, I want to see what I'm doing," he said, though really he just loved to see Fred in this pose, and had since they'd first figured out what pricks were good for.

Fred grinned back, well aware that George just liked a show, and brought his legs up to his chest. He was tempted for a moment to put his ankles behind his head, but instead he just grabbed the backs of his knees and spread wide, saying, "Use lots of slick."

George snickered, then cast the lubrication spell twice, giving himself a handful of the thick stuff. First he slathered his hard, aching prick with it, then he dipped a finger in and began to smear it around and over Fred's arse. "Tell me if it hurts or anything," he said, pushing inside the tight little pucker. Sometimes it did, though usually it didn't, depending on how excited or relaxed they were, and tonight he wanted it to be all good, if they could manage it.

"It's good," said Fred, pushing back against George's finger and feeling it slide in deep, deeper than they usually went. "Everything all right?" he asked, suddenly shy about having George touching him like that, worried about being gross and ruining it all.

"Don't worry," said George, wriggling his finger a little and then starting to slide it back out, and then in and out a bit more. They were both clean from their shower, and he couldn't resist leaning in to lick at the drop of fluid at the tip of Fred's straining cock, full-grown now that they were all of fourteen, thick and substantial in a way that George privately found very satisfying, in hand or mouth or even just nestled against his hip of a morning. "I like this," he said, feeling Fred loosen a little around his finger, stroking the silky-smooth walls inside with fascination.

"Ohgod, me too," said Fred, and then, "More?" He felt like he wanted it all now, though he knew it would hurt to try and shove George's prick inside all at once, from having tried two fingers right off once and been smacked for it.

"Yesss," George hissed, pulling out to get more slick and then slipping two fingers in.

The moving thing seemed to help, because they felt good, not a sign of pain at all as they slid in all the way to the knuckle, stretching Fred wide and making him whimper. "That's brilliant," Fred gasped, his arse twitching and clenching of its own volition.

"It really is," said George. Fred felt tight and hot, he was so hot inside and slick with the lubricant. Everything felt like satin, smooth and fluid with the tight muscles gripping at the base of his fingers, and George couldn't wait to get his prick inside. He started that same slow movement -- fingerfucking, he thought, I'm fingerfucking my brother. In and out in a perfect motion that sped up of its own accord, his eyes flicking from the place where his fingers disappeared into his twin's body, up to the face so like his own except for where it was entirely different.

Fred looked back, eyes glazed over but unwilling to close them just yet, though he was in no danger of ever forgetting who it was that made him feel like this. George would always be the only one to give this to him, from kissing to shagging and everything in between. They didn't need words when they were like this, hard and wanting with eyes locked and bodies moving together in their secret rhythm, and Fred knew that once they'd crossed this final line they'd be closer than ever.

George could tell when Fred relaxed again and he added a third finger without being asked. They'd both got thick as they grew older, not exceptionally long but big enough to stretch a mouth wide, and long enough that they'd had to relearn the trick of blowjobs. George was already halfway to coming just from this, from watching as each new pleasure made Fred's eyes go darker, his cheeks pink and both of them panting. George had given off feeling around and was thrusting his hand hard and fast now, three fingers buried to the knuckles in Fred's arse, and George with a new understanding of why someone would do just this even without the promise of more, just for the sake of this feeling.

"Now, please, now," Fred pleaded, as George's fingers brushed near something in him, sparking along his nerves until he couldn't wait a moment more.

"Fuck, yes," George swore, looking at the desperation in Fred's face as he pulled his fingers out. "Gorgeous, Fred, you're fucking perfect like this," he said, using one hand to brace himself, the other to guide his eager prick to the tiny-looking hole. "Let's hope it fits," he said, with a little burst of nervous laughter. A part of him knew this was important, that everything else they'd done could be brushed off as adolescent curiosity and the foolishness of youth, but this was it -- once they did this, they'd be lovers for real, not virgins by anyone's standards anymore, bound together by something that was as profound in its own way as the thing that made them twins.

"You always fit with me," said Fred, voicing the reassurance George hadn't known he needed, showing that he understood what George was thinking and agreed. "We're perfect together."

Whatever else Fred might have said was lost as George slid his hips forward and they both groaned, Fred's arse resisting for a tense moment before it opened and the head slipped inside, followed inevitably by the rest in one slow glide until George was buried to the root. It felt hotter on his cock somehow, the smoothness wrapping around him in a caress more intimate than hand or even tongue, the grip at the base so tight as Fred's muscles spasmed around him. "P-perfect," he said, panting as he tried to hold back from coming right then.

"So good," said Fred, wrapping his legs around George's waist and leaning up for a sweet, hot kiss. It hurt a little at first, then he remembered to push back and the pain melted into incandescent pleasure as George's prick slid right over whatever it was his fingers had only been teasing near. "It's just right," he said breathlessly, a joke on an old story their mum had told them as kids.

George grounded himself in the kiss, wrapping one slick hand around Fred's prick as he started to pull away. Fred's arse was grasping as though it didn't want him to leave, and the flutter of those muscles tightening and loosening around him was only enhanced by the slide of their tongues together. "Yours," he said as the kiss broke, so much encompassed in that one word.

"Mine," Fred replied, knowing that George would understand what he meant. He began to rock his hips and George's followed suit, establishing a rhythm somewhere between blowjob and hand job, reminding him of the times they'd simply rub off against each other because they were too sleepy or lazy or busy kissing to do anything else. Only this was a whole different world of feeling, this fullness with their bodies as close to one another as they could get.

George gave up on words, feeling affection burn in his chest as he thrust into his brother, giving in to his body's need and driving forward again and again, the grasp and pull of Fred's body around his cock the most intoxicating thing he'd ever felt. He was going to come embarrassingly quickly and he sped up his hand as well, stroking Fred gracelessly as his brain short-circuited and all the skill he'd learned in the past five years vanished. Pleasure flooded his senses and he kept his eyes open simply by forgetting to close them, fascinated by the expressions on Fred's face at the height of each stroke.

Fred didn't care that George's hand was fumbling, most of his attention on the newest pleasure his brother had given him, the spark at the peak of each thrust that set his nerves afire. The slide of George's cock caressed parts of him he hadn't known wanted touching, and several parts he'd already known were good, as well, bringing him pleasure inside and out as his sensitive entrance stretched wide around it. He was going to come soon, so soon, ohgod now, and he spurted over George's fingers with a gasp and shudder as his eyes squeezed shut and his vision went black and red and finally white.

George didn't need any more than that; the hot splash of come over his fingers, the bright scent of it in his nose was enough to trigger his own release. He nearly howled as he buried himself to the hilt in Fred's quivering body, head thrown back and cock pouring out pleasure like liquid fire into his brother, their bodies still rocking together even when the peak fell away and they came back to earth and each other's arms. "Perfect," said George, leaning in to kiss his brother sweetly, with a tenderness that said all he needed to.

"Brilliant," Fred agreed, voice heavy as languor set in and turned his bones liquid, his muscles weak and lax in the aftermath. "Give me... fuck, awhile... and we'll switch?"

"You've got forever," said George with a laugh, stealing another kiss and enjoying Fred's afterglow, though he felt that he'd done all the work. And would willingly again, though he was eager to see just what it was that had made Fred melt so absolutely under his touch, that had drawn new sounds from familiar lips. In fact, he had an idea that he couldn't wait to try, and though he regretted doing so he pulled his softening prick out of Fred's arse, garnering a sound of protest from Fred. "Sssh," he said, kissing Fred one more time, "you'll love this."

"I'd better," said Fred, though he was far too content to even pretend to sound sulky about it as George's mouth took the quick way down, stopping only to bite at a nipple and lap up a few drops of bitter seed.

Rather than answer with words, George buried his face between Fred's cheeks, lapping at his own come where it was leaking out of Fred's loosened, glistening entrance. "It tastes best from here," he said impishly, remembering their other firsts as he dove back in, licking around and around the twitching hole before sticking his tongue inside. He couldn't explain why he loved this, but he was already getting hard again just from the idea of it, devouring his own come out of his brother's arse, lips pressed to the ring of muscle as he licked and sucked and nibbled.

Fred couldn't disagree that he loved every single moment of it, moaning while George's mouth did the absolute filthiest thing they'd ever thought of and felt absolutely perfect doing it. It couldn't quite compare to the feeling of George's cock inside him, but for afters it was brilliant, and he couldn't wait to give it a try himself, though he wasn't all that eager to have George stop. "Arse... up here," he panted, figuring he could warm George up a bit while they were at it, at least, his mouth watering at the thought of it despite the fact that they'd done this a million times.

George grinned, pulling away only long enough to position himself over Fred's face and then diving back in, though most of the come was gone by now. Fred's tongue against his hole felt rough and wet and just right, no more shyness left as it speared into him, opening him with relentless pleasure. He mirrored Fred's movements, fucking the slick entrance with his tongue the same way he'd used fingers and cock, tasting himself and Fred and feeling a shiver run through him as it hit him just how many taboos they were breaking, and how good it felt to be doing so.

"F-fingers," he stammered, pulling his face away; he loved this but today he wanted more, wanted what Fred had got, needed to take his brother into his body, to have that same piece of forever. He passed his wand to Fred and crawled forward until he was nearly at the foot of the bed, head pillowed on his arms and arse up in the air, thighs spread wide, his whole body begging shamelessly.

"Fuck, you look good," said Fred, scrambling up onto his knees and casting the lube spell. He mirrored George's actions and slicked his prick first, then slid two fingers into the needy little opening, knowing his tongue had loosened it up enough for that, at least. He was grateful he'd already come as it hit him how good it felt, to just slide right into George's body like this and feel his brother from the inside, and he was glad that George was offering this to him, though he'd never even considered that they might not trade off.

"Feels good," said George, the slight twinge of pain eclipsed by the feel of Fred's fingers so deeply inside of him, wriggling and brushing, caressing places no one had ever touched before, and no one else ever would. George rocked back and Fred got the point and started fingerfucking him, ungentle and a little awkward, though his fingertips kept stroking over something that made George's prick twitch and heart race, and he moaned as he started to understand just what Fred had liked so much about this.

"Am I hitting it?" Fred asked, knowing that George would understand if he was, gratified when George nodded. He thought he had been, having found a little place inside that was firmer than the rest, and he made an effort to stroke over it as much as possible as he thrust his fingers in and out. He rubbed the small of George's back with his other hand, adding a third finger when he felt George's entrance flare around him and hoping it wasn't too soon.

"Fuck, that's... so... ohgod, fuck me soon!" George babbled, not knowing how else to explain the feelings sparking through his body, knowing he didn't have to try because, and how brilliant was this, he'd just made Fred feel this way himself. He could moan and whimper and talk nonsense, and as soon as he knew he was ready somehow Fred knew as well. Fred pulled his fingers out and slid his cock inside in one rough motion that stole George's breath away completely.

"God, you're so fucking tight," said Fred, biting his lip and trying not to come, hands gripping George's hips as he rocked forward and back just a little bit. He slid one hand down and around, smearing lube as he went, gripping George's prick in a slick, awkward fist. The other reached forward as his thrusts grew faster of their own accord, tracing the freckles on George's back and thinking, not for the first time, that the pattern on his shoulder rather looked like the gryphon in their sky back at home.

Such abstraction was quickly lost as pleasure swarmed up through his nerves, swamping his brain with signals that had nothing to do with skies or stars, though rather a lot to do with skin and bodies and the way he fit inside his brother like they'd been made for this. He curled down around George's body and pressed a kiss to the gryphon's head, then rubbed his cheek through the sweat between George's shoulder blades. His body was moving inexorably forward, faster and harder with every thrust, Fred's hips into George and George's prick into Fred's fist, driving them both to the edge of release and right on over.

"God, Fred, gonna... so... yours... all yours," George gasped, words that held all the meaning in the world, or none at all depending on how you looked at it. His nerves nearly shorted out as his climax hit, like a burst of sparks or a curse gone awry that scrambled his brain until he could feel nothing but Fred's prick inside him and Fred's hand around him, be nothing but right for this.

Fred followed right after, teeth latching onto George's shoulder in an instinctive desire to mark what was his as he spilled deep inside George's body, his essence as much a claim as the bite. "Mine, always mine," he murmured, kissing and soothing the small mark, knowing they'd have to spell it away or risk being found out and separated -- they would do anything at all to prevent that, especially now that they'd found this together.

"Can't live without you," said George with a weak laugh, his whole body feeling as though he'd played a 12-hour Quidditch match, his arse stretched wide and throbbing with something like soreness and something that was the aftermath of the pleasure that had just swept through him, scouring him clean of everything but this, but him and Fred and what they had in each other.

"Wouldn't want to," said Fred with a chuckle, kissing every freckle on the back of George's neck just because they were there, and he could. He gently rolled them onto their sides, keeping their bodies joined despite the fact that it meant he couldn't do the licking thing. He'd do it next time, he silently promised as lethargy stole over him and he yawned hugely.

George echoed the yawn, fumbling around until he found his wand and used a few spells to get a pillow under their heads and a blanket over their bodies. "Good," he said softly, just as he was drifting off. He twined his fingers through Fred's and put their hands over his heart, feeling Fred's breath slow down as it puffed into his neck, tickling him in a familiar, comforting way.

This might be their first, Fred thought as he let sleep slowly overtake him, but it was only the first of many things. With each other to count on, he and George would manage all their dreams. Tomorrow they'd buckle down and start working on the idea they'd been bandying about, inventing better jokes than Zonko's and figuring out how to get the money to open up a shop.

Tomorrow.