Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13/R (I really don't know which is)
Pairing: Fred/George (in their seventh year; yup, legal-age twincest here)
Warning: apart from slashy twincest? Not really
Summary: George has a tickle in his nose and feels miserable. Fred sort of helps and sort of… gets curious.
Notes: I wrote most of this ages and ages ago. But I just noticed it in my WIP folder and finished it off so I could feel highly productive.
George Weasley came awake, he was certain, because of the strong tingle in his nose. He tried to breathe in through it, but one side of his nose was completely clogged and the other tickled madly when he inhaled. He coughed and scrubbed two fingers under his nose, remembering now how miserable he'd felt before falling asleep and now feeling a whole lot worse. His head felt heavy and full, his nose itched, and the pressure in his sinuses was unbearable. The only way around it was to sneeze.
So he stopped rubbing and waited, letting the tickle build slowly in his nose. His nostrils flared and his breath started coming faster. “Huhhh… Huhh?” George paused, halfway through a build-up. He definitely felt like he needed to sneeze. That tickle was there, persistent and nagging at his poor nose. His jaw dropped and slackened. His eyes closed. His breath caught.
Then he scrubbed at his nose again with a frustrated sigh. The sneeze was there; it just wouldn't come out. He felt exceedingly worse for it. He needed to sneeze, wanted to sneeze. His nose was itchy and stuffed and runny all at the same time. He grabbed a tissue from the box on his bedside table and folded it over his nose. Maybe if he blew his nose it would feel a little bit better?
He blew. Or he tried to, at least. His nose was so stuffed a gentle blow did nothing at all. He refolded the tissue and gave a stronger blow. But it made his ears pop and somehow made him cough, so he gave up hope. He'd just have to put up with his nose feeling so incredibly horrible for… how long did he have?
George checked his wristwatch. It was already time for them to start getting up. Their dormmates were obnoxiously early risers, but the twins always liked to sleep in, usually because they were up late roaming the halls or scheming and playing.
George bent his arm and nudged the young man sleeping beside him in bed. The twins who played together, slept together. “Hey. Tibe to get ub,” he told his twin.
Fred woke with a fierce yawn and a stretch, arms up in the air over his head. As he lowered his arms, one came down across the back of George's shoulders. “Morning,” he said, sounding tired but otherwise well. He knew George wasn't the same, though. “How're you today?”
“Bizerable,” George answered. He felt his nose tickle intensely and felt it start to run on the one side. The other side was still hopelessly stuffed so when he sniffled, pretty much nothing happened. “Sniff? Sniff, sniff? SNIFF!” He tried repeatedly to hold back the runs, but even sniffling wasn't working with half his nose stuffed. He really needed to do something that would work.
“You look miserable,” Fred replied, giving George's forehead a kiss. “Let's stay in bed then.”
George shook his head and forced himself to tumble out of his bed. Though they frequently shared sleeping accommodations, George had been immensely glad the night before when Fred had gone to bed with him to keep him company because of his bad head cold. And as fond as he was of staying in bed with Fred, if they stayed too long they'd attract attention and the professors were bound to seek them out. The biggest drawback of being so wild and well-known was that their absence was quite conspicuous. They really had no choice but to put in an appearance.
George pulled off his warm, flannel nightshirt and stood there in the cold morning air, completely starkers and sniffling madly. “Snff! Snff!” He tried again to sniffle because his nose was really running now in one side. He could feel it getting worse, dripping down with an itch and a tickle. He rubbed his hand under his nose and found it wet when he pulled it away. Quickly he took a step back towards the bed and got another tissue. He pressed it to his nose and tried to blow, but all he could do was snort and cough and swear with frustration. “I really deed to sdeeze,” he informed Fred.
Fred was lying on his side, propped up on a bent arm, watching. “Well, go on and sneeze then.”
“I cad't…” George said, sounding depressed. “I deed to, bud I cad't.” Then, miraculously, he felt his nose tickle again with a sneeze. He treated it like the best thing in the world, careful to let it run its course. He did not want to touch his nose or inhale through his nose or even move a single muscle. He just wanted the sneeze to keep filling him. He felt it in the back of his throat now, pulling at him. “hihhh… huhhhhh! HUH!” But then he froze and the sneeze backed down. He sighed and swore again.
“Can't sneeze?” Fred asked amusedly.
“Doe. S'dot fuddy,” said George, rubbing his nose hard and then pressing the tissue to one nostril as needed.
“You're right,” Fred nodded. “Snot.”
“Fred!” George exclaimed, pleading with his twin to go easy on him now more than ever.
Fred waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, come on. That was funny, don't you think?”
Maybe it was a little, but George didn't feel like being amused. And George didn't look the least bit amused as he stood there, naked, trying to keep his nose from dripping visibly instead of getting dressed as he was supposed to be doing. “This keebs habbedig,” George explained. “I just wadt to sdeeze dow.”
“Why don't you just tickle your nose then?” Fred inquired innocently. “Use the tissue or conjure a feather or something.”
George shrugged and snorted helplessly into the tissue pressed to his nose, as the pressure in his nose grew intense again. It practically pounded at him. He refolded the tissue and tired to blow again, but nothing came out.
“You want me to do it for you?” Fred asked, with a jokingly patronizing tone. “Poor baby Georgie needs his Freddikins to tickle his nose for him?”
Frustrated, George played along, pouting with his lower lip way out. He nodded. Then he sniffed and coughed.
Fred crawled off the bed and to the trunk at the base of the bed where books and parchment were spread out, having been abandoned the night before when George had felt too sick and tired to finish his homeworks. He searched around until he found a quill. “Knew there was a good use for these things,” he said, grinning, and heading over to his twin. He stood close, and George leaned into him for the warmth.
George had to admit he felt a bit silly standing there naked while Fred tickled his nose into sneezing. But a few moments later he felt such relief at the release that he could have been naked and sneezing in the front of the Great Hall and he wouldn't have cared. “HUHShuhhh! HehhShihhh! Huhhh-Chuhhh! Heh-hehhhSchhh! Huh-huh-HUHChushhhh!”
With a hand on George's back, Fred stared unblinkingly at his twin as the young man straightened up again after the sneezes threw him forward. “Bless you.”
George nodded thank you, too preoccupied to talk. His nose was wet now, running freely after the powerful sneezes. He pressed the back of his hand to his nose, sniffling and reveling in the fact that his sniffles were purposeful again. “Oh… deed a… sniff! Snuff!” His sniffles were liquidy and light.
Fred quickly grabbed the tissue box and George helped himself to a half dozen. After rubbing his nose, blowing his nose, and drying his nose in that order, George noticed Fred was watching him. “Dod't stare at be like that,” he said, almost shyly.
“Sorry,” said Fred, sounding just as shy. “But it's really something to watch you…”
“What, while I'b sdeezig?” He snuffled into the tissues. “Yeah, really subthig, I'b sure.”
Laughing, “No, I mean in a good way.” Fred slipped his arm around George's waist. “You know how it's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open?” George nodded. “Well, it's impossible to watch yourself sneeze and watching my identical twin… that must be what I look like. It's kind of fascinating to watch.”
George groaned. His nose was running and his eyes felt tired and he was sure he must look as awful as he felt.
“You look gorgeous,” Fred said, knowing what George was thinking. “You really do.” Fred backed away and sat down on the edge of the bed, arms straight back, palms down on the bed, holding himself up. George laughed at the absurdity. “No, really. The look in your eyes… the expression on your face… the way your body moves back and then forward under the sneeze's power… gorgeous.” His eyes traveled over George's body, knowing everything down to the last freckle matched him.
“You're just sayig that because it's your body, too. We're idedtical. Sniff! Sniff! hehh... Excebt for ode thig. Huhh-UHGShhhhh! HuhhShuhhhh!”
“Your head cold?”
George nodded and looked over, noticing that Fred was sitting with his hand on his crotch through his nightshirt. George lifted an eyebrow. “Or baybe two thigs. You're likig this.”
Fred nodded plainly. They had long ago outgrown the need to be shy about their bodies around each other, including their reactions and turn-ons. No matter what else they joked about, the topic of sex was left alone. “I like watching you sneeze. Fascinating.”
“But you've seed be sdeeze before, surely?”
Fred shrugged. “Must have done. But I can't remember. We haven't been sick for ages, and certainly not since…” He rubbed himself again, letting that finish the statement for him- not since they'd discovered themselves. Not since they'd discovered each other. “Sneeze again,” Fred said excitedly. “Come on, I want to watch.”
Immediately, George shivered instead.
“Oh, Merlin! Get back into bed, you idiot.” He lifted the blankets, offering an inviting space where George could lie down and snuggle up to Fred. George was there in an instant, with a smile and feeling far less miserable when curled up against Fred's side. With Fred, he always felt so safe, so comfortable, so right. “Stay close,” Fred said, sliding his arm under George's neck and wrapping it around so his hand rested on George's back. “Stay warm. You're never going to get over this cold if you don't take better care of yourself.”
George gave him a small smile. “Bet that would be okay with you.” He reached over, half-surprised to find Fred as hard as ever. He was completely surprised a moment later when Fred pushed George's hand away.
“Nah, you're sick. I'd never… oh… bloody hell, George. Are you gonna sneeze right now?”
George shrugged. He certainly felt like sneezing, but that didn't mean very much. “Dunno. I've got a tickle…” It was way in the back, though. It made his throat tickle and made him want to open his mouth and let his tongue hand out. His nostrils flared, which made the tickle grow a bit. But his sinuses pounded and eyes watered, and he ended up scrubbing his face into Fred's upper arm and shoulder, sniffling and whimpering in frustration. “Fred,” he murmured. “Cad you do that thig agaid for be? Blease?”
Fred ran his hand through George's hair. “You need only ask.” He scrambled up, then settled back down again. He plopped the tissue box on his stomach and hugged George again with one arm. “Close your eyes,” he said. “And relax, damn it.”
Not realizing he'd been so tense, George forced himself to relax against Fred. He took a deep breath in, feeling his nose tickle madly with the same far away tickle. He sniffed but half his nose prevented all progress on that front. It was going to start running embarrassingly if he didn't do something about it soon. “Dow,” he asked. “C'bod, Fred.”
“Okay.” Fred ran the quill against George's raw, sensitive nostrils. Part of the quill went in, tickling about, but the quill was large, soft, feathery, and it was just the thing George needed.
He felt the sneeze build up incredibly like it hadn't been doing before. It was so strong and intense it made him tense up, shudder, and clench his hands into tight fists. His breathing was harsh, sporadic. His lips quivered. His nostrils flared without stop. And his eyes snapped shut. “hahhh… huhhh… huh-huhehhhhh… ehh-ehhh!” The sneeze built so strongly he was sure it wouldn't stop like it had before. “uhhhhh-HIH… Huhhhhhhh!” And there it was, right on the verge. Any second now he was going to sneeze and it was going to be bliss. Any second. “huhhh…” Almost. “huhhhhhhhhh!” Right there. Right there. And… and… “huh-ehh-HUH-Choo! Huh-UhChuhhhh! EhhhShuhhhh!” George shook his head to get it away from the now-wet tickling quill.
But the sneezes kept coming—forcefully, powerfully, wetly. “hehhChoo! Huhhhgshooo! huhhChuhhh! KTchuhh!” And George was completely helpless now. Both of Fred's arms were around him, holding his body tightly as it spasmed and jerked with sneezes. “huhhhChuhhh!” Oh, but it felt so good, so very good to sneeze. Each one filled his nose and burst out, snapping him further into the embrace. And after each there was a momentary feeling of euphoria that relaxed his body and reminded him just to let it happen. “hehhhh-EHChuhh! UhShuhhh!”
When they finally ran their course, George pressed a whole handful of tissues to his nose for a stuffy snuffle followed by a strong, violent wipe. When he lifted his head, he realized his nose was better. It was twice as runny now, but so long as he had tissues, he was fine. So long as he had Fred he was fine. He sniffed to test it out and felt the inhalation do just what it was supposed to. “Sniff, sniff. Sniff, SNIFF!” He sighed, smiling.
Then George looked up at Fred's face. His twin was grinning. George playfully threw balled-up tissues at him.
“Damn, you look amazing when you sneeze. The way your hair moves, and your whole body jerks around. It's like nothing else. No, it's kinda like an orgasm, actually. Do I look like that, I wonder? When I sneeze I mean?”
“Guess there's doe way to ever dow for sure,” George said, fresh tissues at his nose. Fred kept grinning, and it made George's inside squirm. “I wadt to see you sdeeze too.”
Fred nuzzled close, affectionately. “Then you'll just have to give me your cold.”
“Get your own!” George said with a laugh that was so strong it made his nose tickle again just a little.