asimplechord (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asimplechord) wrote2006-10-13 07:40 am
asimplechord) wrote2006-10-13 07:40 am
Fic: Immediate fallout (F/G, PG-13)
Title: Immediate fallout
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
irisgirl12000
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: 50.4 #35, fool
Warning(s): incest, mild angst
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters and anything else you recognize belong to J. K. Rowling.
A/N: Thanks tobar_bar_ella for her super-quick beta. One item mentioned below is movie-canon, but the Hogsmeade weekend during which this glimpse takes place is mentioned in the 4th book. This follows Revelation. Part of the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100quills prompt set.
"You can wait, can you? Bloody fool!" George muttered into his butterbeer.
Scowling, he lifted the bottle and took a long pull, grimacing at the flavor. Its cloyingly sweet taste was a reminder of the sickening display of affection he had come here to avoid: Fred and Angelina had been tucked into their normal booth at the Three Broomsticks, cozy and close in the corner.
George forced the mouthful down and set the bottle back on the table with a thud.
He couldn't stay and watch the pair of them. Instead, he'd headed for the bar, ostensibly to get a drink, but he'd kept going right out the door and down the high street. When he'd reached the side alley, he'd decided he could use a drink after all, and ducked into the Hog's Head. The bartender had laughed at his request for firewhisky, instead opening a bottle of butterbeer and waving him away.
Somehow, George had expected something different on their first Hogsmeade weekend after the Triward Tournament's second task. After the kiss.
Finally, after years -- years -- of waiting, he'd had Fred's attention, as he'd always wanted it. Their kiss, brief though it had been, and the oddly jealous behavior that had preceded it, had been the first signs that at last Fred might see their relationship from a new perspective, one a fair bit closer to George's.
Fred hadn't tried to escape George's loose embrace past his initial knee-jerk realization of who he was kissing. George thought they'd understood each other without speaking. But then the shrill alarm about Mr. Crouch sounded, and they'd been herded back to the castle with the other stragglers.
Fred had avoided him ever since.
George's scowl deepened.
Countless times in the past week, he'd turned to say something to Fred, to remark on Ron's posturing or Krum's continuing attempts to gain Granger's attention, to moan about McGonagall's massive transfiguration projects, to plot how to shake their money out of Ludo Bagman's pockets, to bring up The Kiss, as he was starting to think of it. But Fred was rarely there; if he were, he was not alone. George wouldn't have thought such avoidance was possible, given the living arrangements in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, but somehow his twin managed it.
George was so consumed by his brooding, he had stopped paying attention to anything, even the bottle he was absently turning on the table in front of him.
"I thought that was you. I wondered what happened when I didn't see you at the B's." Lee plonked himself down next to George without ceremony and snagged the butterbeer, taking a big gulp before handing it back. Somehow, in the process, Lee's weight shifted; now he was sitting close enough that George could feel his friend's leg pressed against his own, which was stretched out and propped on the opposite bench. The heat from that contact was enough, even through two layers of fabric, to distract him momentarily.
"D'you want to stay here? Or find something else to do?" George was fairly certain that Lee had a specific something else in mind, if his too-innocent tone was anything to go by. He was torn between accepting what might be on offer and hoping for a change in Fred's behavior.
"Dunno. Fred mentioned stopping by Zonko's to see if the old man's got any of Filibuster's new fireworks in."
"Too late, G. He and Ange were off, heading to the Shrieking Shack, when I left the Three Broomsticks."
Huh. That solved that dilemma, didn't it?
"Well, what did you have in mind?"
Lee propped an elbow on the table and leaned closer still. His free hand slid from its resting place near George's, along his arm and down, settling on his thigh.
George didn't need a map drawn. Slamming a door on thoughts of his twin, he closed the few inches of space between him and Lee.
"Lead the way."
Fred shifted uncomfortably on the padded seat, picking at the edge of the lacy serviette by his place setting. Angelina had changed her mind; instead of heading to the Shrieking Shack to while away the afternoon, she had opted for Madam Puddifoot's. It was an unusual choice for her, more frilly and girly than anything she'd wanted to do when they'd been to Hogsmeade in the past. He couldn't remember ever having heard her express an interest in the tearoom before. Then again, he'd only ever spent part of the day with her on previous trips. Fred supposed, given some of the giggling and whispering Katie and Alicia had done, that she had something to prove to the other Gryffindor girls, and he hadn't wanted to argue. He'd only just got back in her good graces after his misbehavior at the Yule Ball, hadn't he?
Angelina was speaking – happily, she had chosen a sensible subject, Quidditch – but her words seemed muffled, as if they were traveling eons in the distance between her lips and Fred's ears. He felt tired, so tired, stretched thin to the point of transparency. He had spent the last week avoiding George without appearing to, putting all his effort into looking and acting normal.
Fred wasn't certain he knew what normal was anymore.
George. What was he doing this afternoon, without him? It was the first Hogsmeade weekend they'd ever spent completely apart. Fred had noticed Lee's departure before he and Angelina moved on. Had he found George? Fred didn't want to think about what they might be doing, but he couldn't stop. The only thought that eclipsed his imaginings of the pair of them together was his memory of the kiss he and George had shared, and the words that George had spoken.
Surely George hadn't meant what Fred thought he'd meant. He, Fred, wasn't the one that George…?
He tried to imagine it, him and his twin as a couple. It wasn't difficult, surprisingly – just one more facet to their relationship, really. What could be more natural than sharing physical affection in addition to their emotional ties? The memory of George's solid body resting against his, the feel of his hands and skin on Fred's, had him shifting uncomfortably again.
In addition to the appealing possibilities associated with allowing that aspect to develop, Fred considered the negatives: never being able to show public affection; never sitting with George in a place for couples like he was today with—
"—Fred? Have you heard anything I've said?" Angelina's tone suggested she had been trying to get his attention for quite some time.
"Sorry, I was just thinking," he admitted, smiling guiltily.
Angelina's expression softened.
"About the things I suggested for next year's Quidditch team? Good! I was hoping…"
With a sigh, Fred refocused on Angelina's plans for Gryffindor's next championship season.
Author:
irisgirl12000Rating: PG-13
Prompt: 50.4 #35, fool
Warning(s): incest, mild angst
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters and anything else you recognize belong to J. K. Rowling.
A/N: Thanks to
bar_bar_ella for her super-quick beta. One item mentioned below is movie-canon, but the Hogsmeade weekend during which this glimpse takes place is mentioned in the 4th book. This follows Revelation. Part of the 100quills prompt set."You can wait, can you? Bloody fool!" George muttered into his butterbeer.
Scowling, he lifted the bottle and took a long pull, grimacing at the flavor. Its cloyingly sweet taste was a reminder of the sickening display of affection he had come here to avoid: Fred and Angelina had been tucked into their normal booth at the Three Broomsticks, cozy and close in the corner.
George forced the mouthful down and set the bottle back on the table with a thud.
He couldn't stay and watch the pair of them. Instead, he'd headed for the bar, ostensibly to get a drink, but he'd kept going right out the door and down the high street. When he'd reached the side alley, he'd decided he could use a drink after all, and ducked into the Hog's Head. The bartender had laughed at his request for firewhisky, instead opening a bottle of butterbeer and waving him away.
Somehow, George had expected something different on their first Hogsmeade weekend after the Triward Tournament's second task. After the kiss.
Finally, after years -- years -- of waiting, he'd had Fred's attention, as he'd always wanted it. Their kiss, brief though it had been, and the oddly jealous behavior that had preceded it, had been the first signs that at last Fred might see their relationship from a new perspective, one a fair bit closer to George's.
Fred hadn't tried to escape George's loose embrace past his initial knee-jerk realization of who he was kissing. George thought they'd understood each other without speaking. But then the shrill alarm about Mr. Crouch sounded, and they'd been herded back to the castle with the other stragglers.
Fred had avoided him ever since.
George's scowl deepened.
Countless times in the past week, he'd turned to say something to Fred, to remark on Ron's posturing or Krum's continuing attempts to gain Granger's attention, to moan about McGonagall's massive transfiguration projects, to plot how to shake their money out of Ludo Bagman's pockets, to bring up The Kiss, as he was starting to think of it. But Fred was rarely there; if he were, he was not alone. George wouldn't have thought such avoidance was possible, given the living arrangements in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, but somehow his twin managed it.
George was so consumed by his brooding, he had stopped paying attention to anything, even the bottle he was absently turning on the table in front of him.
"I thought that was you. I wondered what happened when I didn't see you at the B's." Lee plonked himself down next to George without ceremony and snagged the butterbeer, taking a big gulp before handing it back. Somehow, in the process, Lee's weight shifted; now he was sitting close enough that George could feel his friend's leg pressed against his own, which was stretched out and propped on the opposite bench. The heat from that contact was enough, even through two layers of fabric, to distract him momentarily.
"D'you want to stay here? Or find something else to do?" George was fairly certain that Lee had a specific something else in mind, if his too-innocent tone was anything to go by. He was torn between accepting what might be on offer and hoping for a change in Fred's behavior.
"Dunno. Fred mentioned stopping by Zonko's to see if the old man's got any of Filibuster's new fireworks in."
"Too late, G. He and Ange were off, heading to the Shrieking Shack, when I left the Three Broomsticks."
Huh. That solved that dilemma, didn't it?
"Well, what did you have in mind?"
Lee propped an elbow on the table and leaned closer still. His free hand slid from its resting place near George's, along his arm and down, settling on his thigh.
George didn't need a map drawn. Slamming a door on thoughts of his twin, he closed the few inches of space between him and Lee.
"Lead the way."
Fred shifted uncomfortably on the padded seat, picking at the edge of the lacy serviette by his place setting. Angelina had changed her mind; instead of heading to the Shrieking Shack to while away the afternoon, she had opted for Madam Puddifoot's. It was an unusual choice for her, more frilly and girly than anything she'd wanted to do when they'd been to Hogsmeade in the past. He couldn't remember ever having heard her express an interest in the tearoom before. Then again, he'd only ever spent part of the day with her on previous trips. Fred supposed, given some of the giggling and whispering Katie and Alicia had done, that she had something to prove to the other Gryffindor girls, and he hadn't wanted to argue. He'd only just got back in her good graces after his misbehavior at the Yule Ball, hadn't he?
Angelina was speaking – happily, she had chosen a sensible subject, Quidditch – but her words seemed muffled, as if they were traveling eons in the distance between her lips and Fred's ears. He felt tired, so tired, stretched thin to the point of transparency. He had spent the last week avoiding George without appearing to, putting all his effort into looking and acting normal.
Fred wasn't certain he knew what normal was anymore.
George. What was he doing this afternoon, without him? It was the first Hogsmeade weekend they'd ever spent completely apart. Fred had noticed Lee's departure before he and Angelina moved on. Had he found George? Fred didn't want to think about what they might be doing, but he couldn't stop. The only thought that eclipsed his imaginings of the pair of them together was his memory of the kiss he and George had shared, and the words that George had spoken.
Surely George hadn't meant what Fred thought he'd meant. He, Fred, wasn't the one that George…?
He tried to imagine it, him and his twin as a couple. It wasn't difficult, surprisingly – just one more facet to their relationship, really. What could be more natural than sharing physical affection in addition to their emotional ties? The memory of George's solid body resting against his, the feel of his hands and skin on Fred's, had him shifting uncomfortably again.
In addition to the appealing possibilities associated with allowing that aspect to develop, Fred considered the negatives: never being able to show public affection; never sitting with George in a place for couples like he was today with—
"—Fred? Have you heard anything I've said?" Angelina's tone suggested she had been trying to get his attention for quite some time.
"Sorry, I was just thinking," he admitted, smiling guiltily.
Angelina's expression softened.
"About the things I suggested for next year's Quidditch team? Good! I was hoping…"
With a sigh, Fred refocused on Angelina's plans for Gryffindor's next championship season.
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Are you up horribly early, darling, or is there a sizable timezone difference between Texas and California? (I ask because I was chatting on the phone with Petquality just a few hours ago, and I was thinking it was still nighttime over there now... heh)
Oh, and she says MrsRittenRotten's artistic talents are at our new comm's disposal, btw. ;)
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Yay for artistic talents! :)
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GAH! What a few hours on the phone to B WILL do to a girl...
And yeah, I can't wait to help out with the new comm. Whatever I can do to help aid in all the pervy goodness, gals, I live ta serve ya!
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Darling - you can't have had barely five hours sleep! I'm still drinkin'! :D
When I beta'd, I actually found myself wondering about how George and Lee might look getting up to... whatever it might be they're getting up to... ;D So wrong, I swear. So very, very wrong.
*shakes head at self* Honestly. Look at what I'm saying! I'm thinking George and Lee are "wrong" and feeling guilty about wanting to see soom of it, just because I feel and know that the twincest is the truly normal, wonderful, beautiful and NATURAL thing here! *sigh* There can't be any real hope for me now...
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"what George and Lee might look like..."
Damn, that's a nice mental picture, though...creamy freckly flesh on glowing mahogany flesh... jeebus how can I be hot for slash AND suffering monster cramps SIMULTANEOUSLY? I'm getting too old for this...
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Guh.
SO not getting anything done.
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Actually, I had a thought. I've got the
Oh, erm, and it's
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The first fic I would post would be the potions one, not the first post ever. Or even the first fic post, if other people have stuff they'd like to post. Obviously.
We could be accepting prompts between whatever start date and an arbitrary cut-off date, and then claiming would be done and fic/art submitted by another arbitrary date. Something to get everyone through the January blahs, you know? Plus, people always have resolutions at the New Year, and if one of them is to be more active, or to meet a goal in terms of writing content, so that might be incentive for participants. Maybe?
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As for having a couple of offerings, I'm up for anything, and am at this very minute cooking up some ideas for you two that I will run by you soon. I'm off to work now, and will ruminate as I labor. More on my possible meager contributions shortly!
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I trust you to fix this problem, though. *g*
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