Weasley & Weasley: A Fred & George Weasley Fanfic

Chapter 11: Unlike Any Other

*THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEXUAL MATERIAL THAT MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR SOME READERS. VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED*

After the fight we all had in the common room the morning after the ball, Fred didn't talk to any of us for days.
He pretty much kept to himself, even sitting with Angelina in the dining hall at lunch, not looking over to us at all.
It was torture.
I really did miss him.

Despite this big mess and our fights that we've had, he was still on of my best friends, and I hated not being able to talk to him anymore.
I also hated that I came between him and George.
It was the worst feeling possible.

I truly hope he comes around soon.

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George and I sat together in the common room, my legs propped up upon the coffee table, and George's head lying in my lap.
I was twirling my fingers through his hair, running them up and down through his fiery locks, him staring up to the ceiling with his eyes closed.

"You should really talk to him you know." I muttered suddenly.

George squinted his eyes, looking up to me.

"Not until he apologizes." He responds.

"He was drunk George, he didn't really mean any of that." I try to reason.

George quickly sits up, turning around to look at me.
He places a hand on my thigh, rubbing up and down comfortingly.

"Fred still shouldn't of said those things about you Cal." He begins.
"He doesn't understand sometimes that he's being a dick, and hurting people. He's destructive like that. I mean, he's my brother of course I love him, but he has to understand that I can't just forgive him easily every time he fucks us over just because he's my blood."

I nod my head, taking my hand up to his face and brushing his hair behind his ear.

"I get it. I just hate seeing you two fighting. Especially since it's because of me." I say.

He begins to shake his head, scooting closer to me on the sofa.

"It's not your fault. You didn't do anything, he's the one that treated you like shit". He says.

"I know- but, I don't want him to think I'm doing this just to make him jealous. And I don't want you to think you were a second choice to him, because you weren't. And you aren't." I say.

George places his hand to my cheek, slowly gripping the back of my neck, and pulling me in for a quick kiss.

"I know that." He mutters, our faces just pulling away from each other's.

I take my arm, slinging it around the back of his neck, running my hand up to his hair.
I lean forward, connecting our lips again.

George accepts the kiss, kissing back passionately and warmly as he always does.
He props himself up to his knees, leaning forward slowly, putting himself on top of me.
I accept, lying back on the couch, allowing him to position his body over mine.

He brings his hand down to my waist, his other hand holding himself up, keeping distance between our bodies.
I pull my legs up, so his waist is in line with mine, giving him access if he wanted it.

It was rare that we'd have the entire common room to ourselves, and we wanted to take advantage of it as best we could.

He slides his hands from my waist, teasing the hem of my pants with his fingers, sliding the tips of his fingers in slowly under my clothing.