crossing lines by Red Jester. fun-nee. also, a story that deals with incest actually being, y'know. taboo, and one of them not digging that. wackiness ensues. also, again, Percy. oh how I love the twins makin' fun of Percy. and Lee!
Lee turned to look at him. "Juvenile pranks? Those two," he gestured vaguely toward the closed door, "are masters of their art! There's nothing juvenile about it!"
Percy looked skeptical. "Putting frogs in someone's bed is and art?"
"If done correctly, yes."
"Oh, this is nonsense," Percy scoffed.
"Maybe you're nonsense."
"What? Lee, that didn't even..."
double or nothing, by calico. So okay, Calico is like this rock star of slash, man. she does long things that are both very very sexy and very very funny, also with a lot of heart. sexy! funny! heart! besides, I always said that I'd die happy if calico ever wrote twincest. (*cough* mostly because if she ever did, reading it would make me spontaneously human combust. but oh my. what a way to go.)
"Fuck," he whined, when George's grip just tightened. It gave him even less movement, every thrust sending a shallow thrill of sensation through Fred's body, relentless and unfulfilling. "What do you want?"
Lance muttered something, and Fred thought, yes, we know you're fine, and then George whispered, "this is serious. It's veritas," and Fred knew exactly what he meant, and something in his chest relaxed at realising they were on the same terrifying, stark-naked page.
no rush, by Silvia. Twiiiiiins!
Slick bob of Fred's Adam's apple, "We're not sleeping," and he shifts like he might move, but he doesn't.
"I feel like I am," George murmurs, shoulder sliding against, off, his pillow, mouth meeting the sharp of curve just above Fred's collarbone.
something else by Proserpina. fred/george that doesn't say they're identical. which is cool.
They're not the same person, or even mirror images of each other, which means its not narcissism, but they were almost the same person, which makes it more like masturbation than incest, really.
summertime by halrloprillalar. uh, this is kindamaybereallyhot. just sayin'. Fred/Hermione/George.
"Oh, I do draw the line at sticky catchfly." She's pleased.
"But it's a lovely flower," says Fred. "Only a little sticky."
"If I'm sticky, it's because of the heat," Hermione says.
George runs his finger along her temple, by the hairline. "Not too sticky."
switch by Proserpina. what can I say, I'm a sucker for the twincest, even though a lot of it is very similar. this is different.
Even though they never really coordinate their efforts on purpose, they always end up kissing someone else at the same time, or kissing the same person at different times. Several members of their Quidditch team won't even talk to one or both of them anymore, and they're getting a reputation of being heartbreakers.
the portrait by strandia. twins. twiiiins. twiiiiiiiins. <eeeees> the best twincest story I have ever, ever read. and I can't quote the best parts without giving it away. post OotP.
"Pandemonia Hush", the card said, "Portaits in under an hour."
"Really boys," - they were willing to ignore being called boys, which they hated since they were of course men now that they were eighteen, since she was really quite gorgeous and they were really quite bored - "I would be honored if you would sit for me. I've never painted twins before. It would be such a growing experience for me, as an artist, right?" She batted her eyelashes almost certainly on purpose.
"How much?" Fred asked.
theory and practise, by Silvia. again, I say, twiiiiins! uh. yeah, I should just shut up now, shouldn't I?
V: "Incest is like Communism: it works in theory, but not in practice."
and, approximately five minutes later...
Silvia: "Oh, Fred/George -- Theirloveissocommunist!"
twins' advantage by Red Jester. okay, so I'm running out of ways to say 'this is unique and funny'. but this also has some really great dialogue and snappy conversation.
"...so it's going to be a big day in the office tomorrow. The Lebanese representatives are going to be visiting, and everyone knows they're the biggest opponents of standardized cauldron thickness."
"Oh yes, everyone knows that." George mumbled, stealing a bit of potato from Fred's plate and popping it in his mouth.
"Just think," Fred said dreamily, "if Percy proves himself tomorrow, Mr. Crouch may send him away to Lebanon..." He reached over and grabbed George's roll.
very vanilla by Bracken. it, okay. they shouldn't be this hot. it's evil and wrong. I know.
"I'm sorry," the vender said to Fred, as he handed George the last vanilla cone, "Can I get you another flavour, chocolate perhaps?"
Fred looked at his twin, took in the creamy skin, the smooth, white curve of his neck, compared it to the rich cone and looked woefully at the vender.
" I really want vanilla."
welcome, by Silvia. Ron. oh, *ron*. this is only kind of a fred/george story, but, oh.
You married her in the spring, because Dumbledore had coughed -- he had been doing too much of that lately -- and said, gravely, "Then she will bring springtime with you, wherever you go."
You have an office on the sixteenth floor, and a picture beside your inbox of the twins standing proudly in India across from one of their shops. George winks mischievously, and waves, but Fred just looks tired.