All he hears is, "George! Watch out, bludger-!" then darkness. A period of quiet, which is broken by flashes of light and sound, screams that hurt his head. But then he sees the concerned face above him, and knows that everything will be okay.
He tries to communicate this to his brother, but his mouth doesn't seem to be working. So instead, he raises a reassuring hand to touch a befreckled nose, the contact sparking warmth. George's eyes close as they rush him to the Infirmary.
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Fred stayed by his brother's bedside all day and all night. No one objected. He watched George's sleeping face, fingers lightly tracing the ugly bruise on one side of his jaw.
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His eyes open at around 1:30 in the morning, and he is cold. His face is sore and his head is pounding, but mostly, he is cold. He gropes around in the space next to him, but does not find what he is searching for.
"Fred?" he finally questions the darkness, and something shifts beside him.
"George?" his brother's voice croaks. "You awake?"
He smiles in the darkness. "Yeah, but it sounds like you aren't." A hoarse chuckle comes from his right. "I'm cold, Fred." He can feel the hint of a smile playing on his brother's lips, though he cannot see it.
The covers rustle as his twin climbs into the small bed with him. And he is warmed by the fire contained in his brother's skin.
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Fred snuggled up to his injured brother, legs and arms wrapping protectively around him, keeping him safe. The twins breathed in and out in unison, a simple symphony for those who cared to listen.
Fred broke the peaceful silence. "I was so worried... it hit you so hard..." he mumbled. His hand cupped the bruised side of George's face.
George sighed. "Shhh, it's okay. It's okay."
There was a pause. "I don't want to lose you..." one half voiced both their fears, the bane of being a twin. For who could exist without their other half? Normally, this despicable fear was never spoken of.
"You won't." George reassured him. "I'm still here. A ferocious man-eating bludger will never do a Weasley in." he cracked. Fred didn't answer, and that was when George knew he needed to fix this. "Maybe you need to see just how *alive* I am." he whispered suggestively, bring their bodies closer.
Fred attempted to ward him off. "George... You're hurt! And we're in the Infirmary...!" His mirror snorted, "Yeah like that's ever stopped us before." Any more protests from Fred died away as his brother's lips touched his own.. Liquid fire seared through him them, as it always did when they were this close. It was part of them, the Fred-and-Georgeness of their spirits. It was barely contained in them at all times, and one small push and they felt the need to be one, together and whole, to let the liquid fire unite them as was meant to be.
George felt his pajama bottoms being pulled off, and he grinned mischievously. "I knew," he gasped into Fred's ear, "you wouldn't be able to resist." Fred, below him, just moaned in response. He rubbed skillfully at his brother's hips, eliciting more delicious sighs. The feeling of bare skin on skin was electric, the blaze had been released, and it was like dumping gasoline on smoldering embers, resparking a not entirely deceased flame. That's what it was, a fire, there was no other way to describe it, flames consuming their bodies, running through their veins.
And then, the moment. *The* Moment when George was in Fred. *In* him. It was... completion. The heat was almost too much to endure, pleasure coursing through them in visible ripples. They were *one*.
This was always the best part. Working towards the peak, when the fire would become so great that it would consume them as one, together forever. When it came, they let out identical sobs as light exploded behind their eyelids.
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The heat fades slowly but surely, and as he pulls out it is gone, only, he can sense it just underneath his brother's skin, nearly glowing in the dark.
As always, the desperate aching *loneliness* comes back, staggering, almost too much, especially after the brief but *beautiful* union, it is like being forced outside again when you've just come in from the cold. But Fred wraps his arms around him in silent comfort; his twin *knows* what he is feeling and lessens the pain.
And it is in these moments, the worst, just as building up is the best, that he is very conscience of his *self*, the part separated from his soul mate. And that is the great fear. That the oneness may someday be lost.
But right now, he is with Fred, is in his arms and his thoughts, and when they are together like this, they simply are //we are// One.
*cough* this is one of those "well, I feel like experimenting with pairings" fic. I'm not quite sure how it turned out. The pov's varied and so did the tenses. just fooling around.It was interesting writing f/g, but I don't think I'll do it again.
