Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/304874.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      George_Weasley/Percy_Weasley, Fred_Weasley/George_Weasley
  Character:
      Fred_Weasley, George_Weasley, Percy_Weasley
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Grief/Mourning
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-12-27 Words: 3011
****** Birthday Boys ******
by floweringjudas_(manipulant)
Summary
     The first birthday after Fred's died, George gets a surprising
     present.
It was (as most of the Weasley twins' private traditions were) originally a
prank that had got wildly out of hand - they were twelve, and stupid, and
stuffed full of hormones. And lacking any creative outlet in their lessons,
which of course led to biweekly chaos for Filch and Mrs. Norris. And they had
just learned Silencing Charms in Flitwick's lessons the week before,
conveniently enough.
What happened was this: Fred woke first, on their birthday, at the ungodly hour
of five in the morning. George was, unforgivably, still asleep in the bed next
to him, and naturally Fred had to exact revenge by pouncing on top of him. He
had, of course, cast a Silencing Charm beforehand (he may not have been clever,
but he wasn't a fool, and McGonagall hated being woken by students - the
twins'd found that out a few months prior via the Squid Incident), and he made
sure to flip George onto his back and pin his hands before his brother managed
to wake entirely. He'd planned on sitting on George's stomach for a good hour
or so, possibly dangling precarious strings of spit just above his face, maybe
even going so far as to cast a few tickling jinxes.
He hadn't planned on George's morning erection digging into his thigh.
"...Merlin, you perv," Fred whispered after a handful of frozen seconds, and he
grinned down at his brother's shocked face. George's protests weren't heard,
thanks to the Silencing Charm, and when Fred started determinedly wiggling his
hips a moment later, his gasps and moans weren't either.
"Happy birthday," Fred panted some minutes later, cheeks red, eyes shining as
he settled down beside his twin. "And don't snore, or I'll have to do it
again."
 
Eight years later, and Fred is sleeping quietly in the Weasley plot of Ottery
St. Catchpole chapel's cemetery. George has claim to the spot beside him, of
course, but he's not ready for that quite yet, despite what he tells himself
(and the bottle of firewhisky) on bad evenings.
It's been almost a year, and their birthday is tomorrow. There was a party
earlier in the day, at the Burrow. Mum cried. George was glad of the
replenishing charm he'd put on the flask in his coat pocket, and he'd got
steadily and thoroughly ratarsed until someone (Bill, maybe, or Ron - someone
tall) hauled him out of his seat at the dinnertable (sorry, Mum) and put him to
bed.
George barely managed to recognise that it wasn't his bed (sheets smelled far
too clean, mattress didn't have all the lovely familiar lumps) before his
babbling ceased (can't stand the quiet, Bill, s'bloody lonely) and he fell
deeply asleep.
 
The sun is asserting itself bravely in the morning sky. There's still a chill,
cold dampness on the grass and gardens outside, but there's a hint of spring,
of renewal in the air. George is snoring, sprawled on his stomach, hands
sandwiched between himself and the mattress.
He's woken slowly, by the feeling of lips pressed against his shoulderblade -
he sighs and can't recall changing into pyjamas the night before, someone
must've helped shuck him out of his robes before he passed out. Hope I didn't
sick up on them, he thinks muzzily, and arches back a little as the mouth
slooooowly makes its way over to the back of his neck. As it applies itself to
the very tip of his nape, George groans softly, and tries to turn over.
"Whuzzat - Fred?"
An answering gasp, and hands guiding him firmly, gently, back onto his stomach.
"Shh," a mouth whispers next to his ear, and George shivers at the hot burst of
breath on the sensitive skin, and at the dawning knowledge that he's not
precisely sure who's doing this to him. Must've spoken too freely last night,
he determines, and then his mouth falls open as a wet bite of a kiss is applied
to the side of his neck. "Oh," he chokes. "S'good."
"Good," the other man (at least, George thinks it's a man - Hermione
wouldn't've been able to pin him, and he's really hoping this isn't Ginny
because wrong wrong WRONG) murmurs, and shifts to lick and bite at the other
side of his neck. George whines - at the teasing, and at how his head is
starting to pound; the effects of last night's booze.
"God," he gasps, and presses his forehead harder into his pillow, feeling his
face grow hotter and hotter. His voice is slightly muffled by the fabric, but
he tries anyway when the throbbing in his brain becomes too much to ignore -
"Pepper-up in the bathroom, I think."
There's a soft chuckle from behind him, and what feels like a cheek pressed to
his shoulder, and then a muttered spell that makes the headache recede. That,
and the sight of a pair of glasses being put on the bedside table, give him
enough clues to make an educated guess. "Perce," he mumbles, letting his eyes
close again.
There's a pause, and then Percy turns his head enough to kiss George's shoulder
again. "I'm not trying to take his place," he murmurs.
"Good, cos you can't, " George starts, but then Percy slides a hand over his
mouth and kisses his ear and George shudders at how good it feels. Percy licks
at the shell of his ear, and then inside it, and George squirms a little under
him, shocked at the burst of heat he gets from it - and then Percy's backed off
just enough to breathe words over where he's licked.
"But you're my brother, and you've been sad long enough," he says. "I'm going
to take care of you." And be damned if that isn't the sodding Head Boy Voice,
but it's actually working on him this time - George sighs and believes Percy,
and nods, and thinks it'd be nice to be looked after, for a bit.
Percy shifts up (he smells like soap and ink and parchment and school) and
slides warm palms over George's shoulders and arms, whorls pressed into his
skin haphazardly until the muscles relax there. There's also the mouth-stuff,
which George isn't quite sure of - Percy's licking each individual bump of his
spine like a lollipop, and it's deeply disturbing, how arousing that is.
Percy's mouth is hot and wet and sort of expert and George wants never to know
who he's been practising on - and ohfuck there are teeth in there, and George
yelps at a nip to his back, and huffs as Percy sniggers behind him. "Yeah,
happy birthday to me," he sulks, turning his head to glare back at his brother.
"First year going solo and I get mauled to death before I even get cake."
"You had cake yesterday," Percy points out reasonably, and then kisses him.
...It's not bad, as kisses go.
Of course, it's Percy, which should put it right down there between Professor
Quirrell (post-turban) and Umbridge, but...well, it's nice. George sighs as he
sinks into the kiss, not bothering to acknowledge the twinge in his neck from
craning it back so far, just concentrating on the pair of warm, firm lips
against his. After a moment, Percy's tongue is in his mouth, and even that's
nice - Percy doesn't dive in too fast, teases him a bit, and George twists a
bit as he tries to get more. Percy doesn't comply right away and George winds
up making a ridiculous whimpering sound - he flushes bright red because of it,
but Percy doesn't seem to mind.
"...What did the two of you - ?" Percy starts to ask, but then trails off,
pulling back enough to give George an unfocused look, eyebrows raised. George
shrugs and waggles his eyebrows, giving him a coy look over his shoulder.
"What were you after?"
Percy huffs and rolls his eyes, and George can't help sniggering at how Percy
looks twelve years old when he does that. "Well, really," Percy mumbles, but
then he smiles a bit, and leans back down to kiss him again. He sucks George's
lower lip into his mouth and bites a bit, for revenge, and George gasps,
startled, and arches a little underneath him. And then fuckfuck, that's Percy's
dick that's already half-hard against him, and George goes lightheaded as all
of the blood in his body suddenly rushes southward.
"Um. Shit," he breathes, when Percy's pulled away again. Both of them are wide-
eyed.
"Ah. ...Yes," Percy agrees tentatively.
"Well, do that again," George says, irritated with Percy's lack of follow-
through. "And don't stop this time." Percy, still wide-eyed, nods and curls
back down over him, and George arches a little to meet him halfway - their
teeth clash, which is funny, but then Percy is kissing him heatedly, and George
can't help moaning into his mouth a little bit. He can feel his prick hardening
against the mattress, and he twists under Percy a little.
"George," Percy gasps, and then George is really glad it's Percy who decided to
be altruistic and come and fuck his brother for his birthday, because Ron and
Bill and Charlie would all be too worthless to remember a Soundproofing Charm
at a time like this. Percy puts his wand down on the table beside his glasses,
and helps George wriggle onto his back beneath him, and gives him a slightly
breathless smile.
...It's been ages since George saw Percy smile. (Percy could say the same about
him.)
There's a small pause, where things could go very pear-shaped and serious, but
then George raises an eyebrow up at Percy and gives him a smirk, and slides a
hand under his pyjama top. Percy squawks a little at his cold fingertips, and
then bites his lip as George finds a nipple. He cranes back down to give George
one of those good kisses again, and George can't be held accountable for his
actions when Percy sucks on his tongue - they're twined around each other and
rocking mindlessly within minutes.
"Oh, sh - George, I," Percy gasps, or tries to, his face flushing darker and
darker as he tries to prop himself up on his elbow, keep some semblance of
control over the situation. George just shudders and slides a hand into his
hair and pulls him down into another kiss. And then directs him down to his
neck again, tilting his chin helpfully until Percy gets the hint and bites
down.
"Shit," George groans, thrusting up against Percy's hip, trying again to angle
so their cocks brush against each other (Percy had made the greatest sound when
they first did that, George is determined to make it happen again).
"F - oh, I - mmph," Percy mumbles, but then is cut off by another desperate
kiss. George licks at the inside of his mouth, but then pulls back, eyes
glittering.
"What were you going to say?" he asks, raising both eyebrows, hips still
gyrating in time with Percy's. Percy gapes at him for a second, before shaking
his head. "...Perce," George insists.
"N - ohgod - nothing," Percy mumbles, and drops his head down on his shoulder,
biting his skin a little. George whines.
"No-o, want to hear you say," he gasps, interrupting himself with a groan,
hands tight on Percy's back. "Say 'fuck' or "shit' or something," he orders.
"...With the Head Boy voice."
"Don't be ridiculous," Percy grunts, and George is almost unhinged by the
following image of his brother sticking his fingers in his own mouth and then
sliding them down to trace over his nipple - the blast of cold air as Percy
blows on them makes him squirm.
"Merlin - Perce, please, want you to - " George shudders and writhes, trying to
find more friction.
"...I want to fuck you," Percy gasps, tilting his head up from where he was
looking down at George's chest, gazing up at him almost nervously. George
blinks. You never let Fred, you never let Fred, you never let -
"All right," George says, and blinks again. Percy looks almost as shocked as
George feels, and then nods and ducks down to kiss him again, and reaches for
his wand on the side table. George is suddenly aware of a sharp pain in his
chest, a nervousness bordering on terror, but then Percy is back, hovering over
him, and Percy said he'd take care of him, and the preparative charms actually
feel....pretty good.
George doesn't realise he hasn't even seen Percy's dick until he's watching it
push inside his body - it's fucking weird, it's his fucking brother (ha, his
fucking br - nevermind), but after the first little moment, when he's got over
the shock of sodding Percy having a good inch and a half on him and having a
good inch and a half in him...it still feels pretty good.
And then, Merlin, Percy starts to move and it feels fucking amazing.
Percy's weirdly silent above him, biting his lip til it looks like it might
bleed, making little whimpery noises every now and then. And his prick is big
and is fucking him, pushing in and out of his body and it's the wildest thing
George has ever felt. ...He's actually almost glad it's Percy doing this, he
can't imagine doing something like this with somebody he couldn't make fun of
after, because he's sure the faces he's pulling are pretty comic, and Percy
sounds quite a bit like a girl, and then there are the noises, which...all
right, actually those are a bit hot.
And then Percy twists and hoists one of George's legs up, guiding it around his
waist, and fucks in again and holy fucking Merlin, George can't help how he's
arching so much his back has just left the mattress, that is the most brilliant
feeling in the entire world.
"Good?" Percy asks, like an idiot.
"Yes, good," George gasps, and rocks back down onto him, trying to keep the
same angle and not move except move and just shamelessly get more of his
brother's cock into him if it will make that happen again. "Fuck, again. Up -
higher, like," he whines, as Percy rocks in almost frantically, trying to touch
off whatever part it was that made George light up like that.
Frustrated, George lets him try a couple more times before gripping Percy's
arse in both hands (ignoring his squeak) and grinding him in exactly how he
wants, so that his eyes roll back in his head. "There," he whimpers. Percy
nods, still biting his lip, and tries to memorise the feeling of George's
insides, so he'll know when he's doing it right. He rocks in again, and again,
and againandagainandagain, and for once, George is glad of his older brother
being such a swot and such a quick study, because he is quickly ramping up to
the biggest orgasm ever felt by man.
"You feel so good around me - " Percy gasps, and George almost convulses
because he doesn't think he can cope with Percy's dick making him feel like
this and then Percy - Bighead Boy Perfect Prefect Percy - managing to say
anything remotely dirty or arousing. He moans, and reaches down to wrap his
hand around his own cock, and begins fisting it quickly.
"How good?" he chokes out, head tilting back, his free hand curling tight
around his pillow, knuckles against the headboard.
"Ohh - tight," Percy supplies a moment later, eyes closed, lips red and wet and
kissed-raw. "Like you're sucking me in."
"Like a mouth?" Fuck.
"Yeah, like your mouth."
"I'd let you," George gasps, going lightheaded again, eyelids fluttering as he
feels himself being jostled back and forth by the force of their thrusts. "Suck
you. Let you fuck my mouth."
Percy shakes his head sharply, hair sticking to his damp forehead. "Don't want
your mouth, I want your arse." He groans on the last word, hips beginning to
lose their rhythm. George whines and squeezes his legs tighter around him,
bursts of heat and light beginning to fire behind his eyes as he gets closer
and closer. Percy shudders and surges forward, hard enough to make the
headboard smack against the wall, hard enough to make George yelp. "Want to
feel you c - oh - "
Pushed over the edge by Percy's last thrust, George tenses and then jolts with
the first shock of orgasm, ropes of white splurting onto his belly as he wracks
with every fresh pulse. It leaves his head buzzing after, and his vision
cloudly, and he's hardly recovered enough to realise that Percy's shaking and
still pumping when Percy suddenly freezes and cries out, and - oh, weird,
George can feel Percy's dick twitch inside him as he comes. He blinks his eyes
wide at that, startled at the sweet, sharp aftershock that shakes through him
at the idea of Percy's come being pumped inside him.
"...fuck," Percy mumbles as soon as he stops shaking. George gives him a sated
grin, and shields his eyes from the sun with his arm.
"Give us a fifteen minute recovery period, and we'll see," he replies, and
smirks as he hears Percy's snort. There's the added weirdness of Percy having
to pull his cock out of George's body, but even that's sort of enjoyable
(though George'll die before he ever admits it), and the familiar tingle of the
cleaning charms are enjoyable, and even Percy flumping down on the bed beside
him is enjoyable.
Maybe it's the afterglow making him stupid, but George thinks that, as
birthdays go, this one could be worse. And he thinks that, as traditions go,
this is one he could certainly get behind.
"You know, most people get their siblings gift vouchers. Or money," he muses.
"...Horribly impersonal," Percy yawns. He shifts to face George on the bed
(...oh, it's Percy's bed, George suddenly realises), and kisses him lightly.
"Happy birthday."
George smiles a little, and feels lighter than he has in ages. Somewhere, Fred
is laughing his arse off. "Don't snore, or I'll have to do it again," he
threatens in an undertone, and then slides an arm around his big brother, and
slips back into sleep.
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