I Want to Touch You

The fingers sent chills through his exhausted body. He was spent, breathing hard.

“Jesus, Jesus…” George whispered, and his hot breath permeated the full air. This was like nothing he had ever felt. He was complete, complete and part of him was inside –

“Oh God,” he whispered.

And a horrible realization coursed through his body like death. ‘I just came inside my brother’s mouth.’

“Oh, Fred,” he said sadly, and hated the way his brother’s name sounded through his breathy voice. He pulled away quickly and dragged the sheets up around him.

Fred, dragged from his contented state, looked up at his brother. He was confused at the contorted pain scarring his twin’s face. “What’s wrong? Did I do it wrong, George?”

George felt a wave of shame. No, Fred, you did it right. Oh God, and that’s the problem.

“You didn’t like it?” asked Fred, concerned.

George hesitated. “No.”

There was an awkward silence.

Then Fred’s icy whisper cut through the air like sharp blades through flesh. “Whose cum is this on the sheets, George? Fuck, it isn’t mine.” He took George’s face roughly in his hand and brought it to his own. “Whose cum is this on my chin, George?” He threw his brother back on the bed and screamed, “Fuck you!”

They both were silent for a while. Then George said, “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

After a few heavy moments Fred’s defeated, soft, sad voice said, “Okay, George.” He got up and went to George’s bed.

*

George felt his brother’s eyes burning on the back of his neck as Fred made his way to an isolated seat at the far corner of the Divination room. Their uncharacteristic separation created tangible tension and a murmur spread throughout the classroom. Professor Lamron looked warily from one twin to the other with a troubled expression on her face.

When the class had settled down she began, “We will be working on a project that will help us learn to channel the energy of our minds into a physical reality. In the muggle world people often accomplish this through writing or painting. They use the expression that they “pour their souls” into a piece of artistic expression. In the wizarding world, if the emotion is strong enough, these artistic expressions can cause slight physical alterations in the surrounding environment. Sometimes a book may move across the table of its own accord or a chair may fall over. One man caused a bed to split in two when he wrote a poem about his recently deceased wife. You will all attempt to channel your strongest emotions into either writing or art. All pieces will be presented or performed in front of the class in several weeks.”

The students ed. ed.

“I know you don’t like public speaking. And you will be bearing your deepest emotions to the entire class. But presenting the work brings out the power of the artwork. I need your ideas as soon as possible. Now get to work on brainstorming. And fun fun with this!”

That evening the twins had quidditch practice. George couldn’t concentrate and kept forgetting to hit the bludger, which narrowly missed each player several times.

Angelina giggled flirtatiously at George’s spaciness. Apparently she had forgotten about the unreturned kiss.

George landed before Fred, and Angelina walked with him, laughing and touching him on his shoulder the whole way. George was in a haze and barely registered the girl beside him.

Fred had watched the two all practice, growing hotter every time Angelina flirted with his brother. Now he glared at them as they walked side by side to the lockers. He felt he would burst from anger. He was shaking all over.

Harry flew over to him on his broom. “Hey mate,” he said, following Fred’s gaze. Harry laughed. “Man, you’ve got it bad!”

Fred snapped aroto hto him. “What?”

“It’s so obvious! Man, the Weaseley twins fighting over a girl! I never thought I’d see the day!”

“What?”

“I know you like her, Fred, don’t play dumb. You’ve been staring at her all practice.”

“I like a girl?” asked Fred, confused.

Harry rolled his eyes, said, “Forget it, man,” and flew away.

Fred looked back in time to see Angelina lean up and kiss George on the cheek quickly before running off to the girls’ lockers.

All of a sudden Fred felt the overwhelming urge to fly straight into the ground as fast as possible. Then the urge was replaced by one to fall off his broom from this high height.

Perhaps if he had done so the blinding rage and tension would have been released. But instead he went to the locker rooms like a sealed bottle of dry ice.

Fred sat down on the bench, fully clothed and seething. He stared straight ahead at his locker until all the other boys had left. George came out of the shower with a towel and froze when he saw Fred’s trembling back. He hurt inside for his brother and wanted to comfort him and make everything okay, even though he knew nothing ever would be.

George slowly made his way toward Fred and sat down next to him on the bench. “Hey mate, are you alright?” he asked softly.

Fred felt the presence of his naked brother beside him. George’s damp skin and warm breath were inches away from Fred’s aching hands. He began to breathe harder. His emotions were a confused whirl of hatred, helplessness and lust. He needed control, control over his fucking brother, the brother who was slipping away from him. He couldn’t live! He was desperate – he couldn’t live without that fucking goddamn bloody asshole! FUCK!

Fred exploded.

“I’m not your fucking mate! Call me your brother, your lover, your enemy, but never your fucking mate! Don’t you fucking dare pretend we’re friends! God, you’re such a whore, George!”

Fred stuck his tongue forcefully into his brother’s wet smooth mouth, taking him off guard. He pressed his mouth against George’s as if to consume his twin’s lips. He bruised the skin with his rough lips and teeth.

The sudden passion welling up in his body from the mix of pain and sudden force overwhelmed George. He was spinning out of control.

Fred grabbed George by the shoulders, slammed him up against the locker and stuck his tongue in again. He tore off his brother’s towel and rubbed his body against George’s pelvis.

George released an involuntary moan into the air as Fred tore his mouth away and hated himself for it. And he hated Fred for doing this, for taking advantage of him and making him feel like this.

Fred was sobbing now as he reached beneath his robes to release his painful erection. He pressed it against George and then forcefully turned his brother around so that his face and penis were pressed against the cold lockers.

Fred stuck a finger into George, causing his brother to moan in a twisted mix of pain, pleasure and unbearable shame. He shoved his fingers in farther, unrelenting and rough.

Fred kissed his brother wildly on the neck and then bit him deep, drawing a well of blood. George cried out from the intense pain and threw his head back as his twin sucked the wound forcefully and stuck his penis into him.

George was crying now too. He couldn’t help wanting his brother deeper inside him despite the pain, and he hated himself for that. He felt himself thrusting back into his brother even as he heard himself calling out, “Please stop! Oh, God, Fred!”

Fred screamed wildly as he came inside his brother. George felt his own cum released at the sensation of the rush of fluid inside of him.

Fred stumbled backward and George crumpled to the floor. He had no clothes on and felt exposed.

As Fred came out of his rage he realized what he had done. Slowly the situation seeped into his brain and he knew that the horrible nightmare was reality. He shook his head as he backed away, looking wide-eyed at the scene. “Oh God, Oh, God, George. No, no, no…”

George started to cry. “Go away. Fuck you, just…”

He went into convulsive sobs and Fred just stood helplessly shaking his head.orgeorge, oh no, oh no…”

“Get the fuck away from me!” yelled George with such force that Fred ran from the room with only one glance back at the door. He sprinted all the way to the castle and into his dorm without stopping, passing inquiring faces without a second glance.

George sat crying on the floor in a fetal position. His ass was sore and the pain seemed to pour through to the very core of his being. He wanted to die.

After about an hour George got up and mechanically dressed himself, trying to fight back the tears with little success.

That night Hell froze over, pigs flew, and a Weasely twin paid a visit to the library.

The librarian asked George if he needed anything. George couldn’t think straight, but he somehow remembered the Divination project and mumbled something about muggle poets. The librarian brought him several thick volumes.

George had never really read poetry before, but now he felt himself being sucked in by the dismal verse of Poe and the hopeless depression of Dickinson.

After about an hour of reading George stumbled upon a forgotten poem near the back of a particularly lengthy volume. His eyes ran over it again and again as if through liquid and the words seeped into his mind. He felt himself spinning and saw colors all around him.

George jumped at a tap on the shoulder. The librarian told him it was time to go.

That night George lay in his bed, letting the verses and words crawl through his mind until they welded together in a kind of primitive rhythm. When he went to sleep it wove through his dreams and spread roots to the core of his brain like a weed.

He touched himself in his sleep.

The next day George felt like a mad squirrel with rabies. He couldn’t concentrate on anything and often felt himself breathing hard. He thought he would burst and was feverish.

In potions class Sam accidentally splashed a dangerous potion into his eyes and Snape had to take him to the infirmary, muttering spells to wash them out along the way.

Students began to talk amongst themselves. An intense buzzing in George’s ear grew as the voices became louder and louder. The noises became a roar and all of a sudden he leapt onto the tabld bed began reciting the poem:

“Oh, oh, oh, the other moths were dumb and dense
but far from the candle I, I, I will remain
from afar in the dusks I’ll observe
from this far it is safe and gazing free.”

He was grinning manically and the class was laughing and cheering him on. They assumed this display was another of the twins’ antics.

“Ah! I need not look from one side only!
I keep a clear distance and fly around.
Then I know from all sides how it looks
So to care for not getting to close.”

He looked over at Fred, who was staring intently at his desk. George raised his voice.

“My circle is, ever so slightly, skewed and inward bent
but even there, where closest I was
nothing happened! Nothing! So there’s no reason!
None! For this wide rim so far from the shaft.”

Fred looked up into wild eyes and sat mesmerized and terrified as George continued his performance.

“the wheel spins ever faster, faster, faster, faster
and the light and the glow begets bigger delight
and the rims grow tauter round the shaft”

George leapt across the tables to Fred and, standing on his twin brother’s table, whispered the conclusion:

“aaahhhhh, the end of the wheel, aaahhhhh
is the ash ssshhhh of the moththhhhhh”

George’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed on the desk.