Title: Lucky
Author: alisanne
Characters: Fred Weasley/George Weasley
Rating: R
Warnings: Incest.
Themes/kinks chosen: Charms/Talismans
Word Count: ~4000
Summary: Sometimes, if you're lucky, fate steps in where needed.
Author's notes: Thanks to sevfan for the once over. Any mistakes are mine, the characters, however, are not.


~

Lucky

~

Fred was busy tending to the fussy Mrs. Callahan when the old man walked in. Perhaps that was why he didn’t notice anything strange about him. He did glance in his direction as he browsed, but he looked reputable enough so Fred left him to his devices as he dealt with one of their more demanding customers.

“No, ma’am,” he said as patiently as he was able. “The Decoy Detonators don’t come with an off button. That is the point, after all.”

After assuring her that yes, her little Bobby would doubtlessly love the Wildfire Whiz-Bang, he wrapped it up for her and saw her out, finally having a chance to meet the gentleman in the corner, who had been hovering patiently.

“May I help you?”

The man turned and for a fleeting moment Fred was reminded of his old Headmaster. Must be the eyes, he decided. They do that twinkly thing.

“I suspect that perhaps I can help you, lad,” was the man’s surprising reply.

“Oh?” Fred sighed. They were used to people coming in and trying to sell their latest idea, yet this man hadn’t seemed the type to be soliciting. “Look, we only sell here. We don’t buy.”

“I still think you may want to look at what I have to offer,” the man said quietly, reaching into his robes.

Fred, ready to decline, blinked as the wizard brought out a box and flipped it open. Inside lay an intricately carved pendant. “We’re not jewellers you know,” Fred said, even as he leaned close to peer at the filigree work. The piece really was brilliantly done, though, he thought.

“Oh, I am aware of the nature of your business. I am even aware of the circumstances leading to your meteoric rise in success, down to the source of your funding. Mr. Potter is a generous young man.”

Fred’s eyes went cold. “If this is an attempt to get to Harry through us, you’ll find it’s not all that easy--”

The man held up his hand in a gesture of apology and shook his head. “No, no, dear lad,” he said. “Goodness but I am bollocksing this up, aren’t I? No, I simply intended for you to be aware that I am well acquainted with your business prowess, and I have a bit of an opportunity for you.”

“Right, okay. Then why are you trying to sell me jewellry?” Fred asked, only slightly mollified.

“This is more than mere jewellry. Watch.”

The man pressed a latch and the piece whirred softly. Fred leaned closer, jumping as the face of the pendant snapped open. Out popped a miniature figure which waved at Fred before mounting a broom and taking off after a miniscule Snitch which Fred could only just see. The jewellry figure caught it easily only a few seconds later and with a jaunty grin, hid it in his robes before dismounting his broom and slipping back into the centre of the pendant. It closed with a snap, bringing Fred back to the present.

“Wow, that was brilliant,” he breathed. “That would be really popular with the Quidditch crowd.”

The old man smiled. “More than just them I suspect,” he said.

“How much?” Fred asked. He’d picked up the pendant and from the look of concentration on his face, it was obvious that he was already mentally dissecting it to see how it worked.

“I can let you have it for five Galleons,” the old man said.

Fred grinned. “Five? I can’t see paying more than three, myself.”

The man nodded agreeably. “That’s fine. It’s worth more, but I suspect you know that.”

Fred looked slightly guilty but pressed on. “So we’ve a deal?” he asked.

The man nodded. “We do.” He smiled and handed over a small case for the pendant, which seemed to sparkle more brightly when he set it back onto the black velvet.

Money exchanged, the old man spun to leave.

“Oi, what if I need to ask you more about this?” Fred called.

The man shook his head. “You won’t,” he called back.

“Err--” But the man was gone and Fred shrugged. “This will be brilliant if we can reproduce it,” he murmured beneath his breath, walking back to their workroom. Hopefully, George would agree with him.

~

George had been off negotiating a deal for expansion of the Wheezes into some of the storage space next door, and by the time he returned that afternoon, Fred had just about forgotten his odd encounter.

Melody arrived mid morning and so the shop was quite busy by the time George arrived.

“Hey,” Fred greeted, finalizing a sale for a spotty teenaged boy who hurried out furtively.

“He’ll be in trouble later,” George observed.

Fred grinned and nodded. “Brings back memories, yeah?”

“Yeah. So, how’s business?”

“Steady,” Fred replied. “Mrs. Callahan was in again. Sold her a Wildfire Whiz-Bang this time.”

George rolled his eyes as he chuckled. “Think she’ll be back to complain when little Bobby uses it and she tries a Vanishing Spell?”

Fred laughed. “Seeing as that will make it ten times worse? Probably.”

George grinned. “I guess we’ll let Melody deal with her then, yeah?” he said, laughing outright as Melody shot an outraged look his way.

“So how did the discussions go?” Fred asked.

“Looks like we’ll be able to expand a bit,” George said. “He’s not using the storage area, so it works out for him.”

“Brilliant.”

“And now maybe we can have separate flats,” George added.

Fred frowned. George had been hinting at that for a while now, much to his concern. “You’re still on about that?”

“Well, we can’t live together forever,” George said.

“Who says?” Fred crossed his arms and sat his hip against the counter.

“What would people think?”

“Why do we care what they think?” Fred scoffed. Straightening up as George started for the storeroom, he frowned at his brother’s back. Apparently George was determined that they separate. Fred wondered why the thought filled him with such disquiet.

“How’re the stores?” George asked.

“All right. We’ll need to make up some more Wonder Witch packets, but we can do that tonight.”

George nodded, and as he walked by the table with the flat black box on it, Fred suddenly remembered his purchase from the morning.

“Hey, look, I bought something today. A prototype maybe.” He told the story of the mysterious man.

“Oh?” George opened the box and pulled out the pendant, turning it over in his fingers. “Pretty I suppose, but we don’t deal in jewellry.”

Fred smiled, remembering how similar his initial response had been. “It’s more than that,” he promised.

Just then Melody called out and Fred sighed. “I’ll go see what she needs; just press the latch on the side and you’ll see why I got it.”

Fred hurried out and George, with a sigh and a longing look at Fred’s retreating arse, shrugged. Pressing the lever, he blinked as the piece whirred and opened. Peering closely at it, his mouth fell open as a tiny male figure strutted out.

Looking up at George, it winked at him before removing his trousers and pants and proceeding to.... George gasped. Dear Merlin, it was wanking!

Stroking its tiny prick it arched into its hand and in only a moment was coming, miniscule spurts of white fluid issuing from its cock before it finally slumped over, clearly sated.

It straightened up and, with a nod at George, it stepped back into the centre of the pendant, vanishing as it closed.

“So what did you think?” Fred’s breath gusted against George’s neck making him jump.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” George yelped.

“Huh? What d’you mean?”

“We can’t sell that thing to the general public.”

“Why not?” Fred frowned. “Enough people like Quidditch to market it.”

“Quidditch?”

“Yeah,” Fred said slowly, staring at George in a puzzled way. “Didn’t a tiny Quidditch player come out and chase a Snitch when you pressed the lever?”

“No.” George peered at the pendant in his hand. “Something a bit different happened when I pressed it.”

“Odd. What happened, then?”

George shook his head, avoiding Fred’s eyes. “Nothing that interesting. I just don’t think it’s worth much. You probably overpaid for it.”

“I only paid three Galleons.”

“Still.” George pocketed it.

Fred raised an eyebrow. “Since it’s so useless I’ll take it, then,” he said, holding out a hand.

George frowned. “No, I’ll see if I can get it to work,” he said.

Sighing, Fred spoke hesitantly. “Are you all right?” He stepped closer. “You’ve been acting a bit weird lately--”

George moved back rapidly, avoiding Fred’s touch. He ignored the stab of pain that the hurt look crossing his brother’s face caused.

“Fine. Don’t tell me.” Fred slammed out of the room, leaving George looking after him.

With a heartfelt sigh, George closed his eyes. How had things got so bollocksed up?

~

By that evening they were back on speaking terms although things were still strained, especially for two men who routinely finished each other’s sentences.

They closed the shop, bidding Melody goodnight before turning out the lights and retiring to their shared flat upstairs. Dinner was a quiet affair, Fred shooting concerned looks towards George all through the meal.

“Have you looked at the pendant again?” Fred finally asked as George began to push away from the table.

“Not yet.”

“Well, can I look at it once more? Maybe show you what happens when I play with it.”

George nodded curtly and after only a slight hesitation handed it over. Sitting back down, he watched as Fred pressed the lever, eyebrows moving up to his hairline as this time, two figures emerged and after waving at them, embraced in a long hug. After only a minute they disengaged and stepped into the centre, vanishing as the pendant closed.

“That’s odd,” Fred said thoughtfully. “That’s not what happened last time when the old man pressed it.”

“Maybe it responds to the mood of the person holding it.”

“Or their thoughts,” Fred said. “We had been discussing Harry when he pressed it.”

“Harry?” George frowned.

“Yeah, the old geezer who sold it to me said something about Harry having helped us to get the shop, and Harry’s pretty closely associated with Quidditch to most people--”

“Yeah,” George said. That made sense actually, since whenever he was around Fred anymore, he found himself contemplating sex... He blinked, ruthlessly chasing away that thought.

“So what did it do when you opened it?” Fred asked. “You never did tell me.”

George compressed his lips. It was shameful enough that he was having such thoughts about his own brother, he didn’t have to compound it by telling him about it. “As I said. Something different happened. It wasn’t anything important.”

“I can tell when you’re lying, you know,” Fred muttered. “Why won’t you just tell me? I don’t care what it is, it’s just that it seems to be bothering you. I just want to help. You’ve been so odd lately, secretive.”

“It. Is. Not. Important,” George bit out.

“Well of course it’s important since it’s bothering you, and really, if you would just share you’d likely find it wasn’t that bad--”

“You have no idea!” George cried, clearly at the end of his rope. “Fine. You want to know what I saw?” Holding up the box, he slammed it onto the table.

“When I pushed the lever I saw someone wanking, all right? And all I was thinking at the time was about how much I want to snog you, all right? Merlin help me, I want to kiss my own brother.” He shook his head and continued, voice soft and broken. “And how about the fact that I want to shag you into the floor and have you do the same to me? Did you really want to know about that? Do you think that’s something unimportant?”

Stunned silence settled over the room as Fred assimilated George’s words and George collapsed back into his chair, gobsmacked that he’d blurted it all out in one gigantic breath. “Fuck,” he whispered.

At that Fred laughed and George’s head snapped up. “You think this is funny?”

Fred shook his head but George, already on edge, had jumped up. “I can’t believe I told you,” he muttered. “I should have known you be like this.”

Before Fred could react to that, George had rushed from the room, and, when a moment later Fred heard a Disapparition crack, he sighed. Pursing his lips, he turned towards the box, staring at it thoughtfully for a long moment. With a decisive nod he sat down and made himself comfortable before reaching for it and opening it. “This calls for some research,” he muttered under his breath.

~

George returned hours later to a dark building. In his anxiety he had Apparated all the way to the Burrow. When he’d landed he hadn’t gone in, he’d just walked in the garden gathering his thoughts.

I’m lucky I didn’t Splinch myself, he thought.

Wandering down to the pond, he sat at the edge of it and watched the rippling water for a while. How long had it been since he’d been harbouring these thoughts about his brother? Four months? Five? With a groan he dropped his head in his hands. Probably longer, actually. If he was being brutally honest, and tonight was apparently a night for that, he’d say he’d been noticing Fred in that way for the past year, ever since they had both left Hogwarts to pursue their own business.

It had been slow at first, but then as they’d worked together, spent every waking moment together, George had begun to realize that Fred was the only one he had any interest in. Then the wanking had started; furtive masturbation with George lying in the bed next to Fred’s, listening to his brother’s even breathing while he fondled himself and stifled his hitched breaths.

What an impossible situation! George closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the night, the occasional garden troll and the soft splash of the pond water. Merlin, he needed to talk to someone about this, but who?

He could perhaps couch this in vague enough terms to talk to Charlie or Bill about it, but they would want more details and he wasn’t sure he could keep something like this from them. Plus, they would want to know why he wasn’t talking to Fred about it.

Why didn’t he talk to Fred about it? What was the worst that could happen? Fred could hex him, he supposed, but he knew all the hexes Fred knew, so he’d manage. And if Fred made him move out of his room or something, George would survive that, too. The only thing that he wouldn’t survive was if Fred wasn’t there for him to talk to.

“I’m an idiot,” he muttered, and when no one finished the sentence, he sighed.

Jumping to his feet, George took another long look at the Burrow with its cheerily lit windows and, concentrating, he went home.

Landing in the shop, he steadied himself before starting upstairs. Fred could have left, or he could have packed his things, or...

He hadn’t. Fred was sitting in the same place George had left him, head bowed as he pored over a thick tome.

“Wondered when you’d come back,” he said, not even looking up when George walked in.

George didn’t say anything, just moved around him and took a seat across the table.

Fred was holding the pendant in his left hand and he began running it between his fingers absently. “I did some research,” he said. “And it turns out this is more than it seems.”

George sat back in his chair. “Since when did you become Granger, then?”

Fred grinned. “Someone has to be the brains of this outfit,” he said. “Looks like--”

“--you’re it,” George finished. “So what did you find?”

“This is actually a famous magical artefact that we’ve stumbled across. It’s called the Love Talisman of Circe, and there’s speculation that it’s legend. When it does appear it’s usually carried by a mysterious old man or sometimes an old woman. According to this he appears when partnerships are in jeopardy.”

“Jeopardy?” George blinked. “You think we were--?”

“Yeah,” Fred muttered, still fingering the pendant.

“Right. So what does it do?”

“Shows you the way to your soulmate if you don’t know who that is, and if you do it smoothes the bumps in the road.”

“Soulmate?”

“Well, if we don’t share a soul--”

“Who does?” George finished.

“I have something to show you,” Fred said after a long pause, not looking up at George as he spoke.

“What?”

Fred set the pendant down on the table and pressed the lever. It whirred and the mechanism swung open. George watched to see if the tiny Quidditch player would emerge again, only this time two little figures appeared. Two tiny naked male figures.

He blinked. They looked identical. One held his hand out to the other and he took it, dragging the other into what was clearly a carnal embrace.

George looked up at Fred, but Fred was still watching the tiny display.

Then, one figure lay down and pulled the other on top of him, and from their movements it was obvious what they were doing. It took only a few seconds and then both miniature men looked up at George and winked before disappearing.

“What was that?”

Fred smiled, meeting George’s eyes for the first time. George sucked in a breath at the hope, the trepidation, the love he saw mirrored there.

“That is what has happened every time I hit the lever,” Fred said. “I guess you’re not the only one around here who’s been having thoughts.”

George nodded. “D’you figure we’re queer, then?”

Fred grinned. “I think we passed queer and are on to bent,” he said.

“And that’s all right with you?”

George started when Fred reached over and took his hand. “It sort of has to be all right, doesn’t it?” Fred murmured. “I mean, it’s not as if I’m giving you up. I’ve always known you were my soulmate.”

George smiled. “Yeah,” he agreed, although what he was agreeing to he had no idea at that moment, all he knew was he home where he belonged.

“You think we’ll feel better if we follow the suggestions of the pendant, then?” Fred asked casually.

George shrugged, but his attempt to be casual fooled neither of them. “We could give it a try,” he said, his thumb caressing Fred’s wrist. “Your book does say it’s a powerful talisman.”

“Probably unlucky not to follow its suggestions,” Fred said, smiling.

“So maybe we should try the first thing it suggested,” George said, standing up and pulling Fred close.

“Which was?” Fred grinned. “You never did tell me what it showed you.”

George stepped back and reached for the fastening of his trousers. “Why don’t I just show you?” he murmured.

As Fred watched with interest, George shucked his kit and reached for his prick which was already half-erect. “I wouldn’t mind some help, though,” he added, a mischievous grin spreading over his lips.

Fred didn’t need to be asked twice. Disrobing with a simple spell, he leaned forward and pressed George against the table. When he insinuated his leg between George’s and both their cocks touched, sliding together for the first time, they both moaned softly.

Reaching between them, Fred slipped his hand around their erections and George sagged against him, his hand falling to Fred’s hip as he pulled him closer.

“Was this what you saw?” Fred groaned, as he moved his hand back and forth. “Was the little guy wanking?”

“Yes,” George gasped. “Only he was by himself.”

“Only you’ll never be by yourself again,” Fred replied, licking George’s ear as he sped up his hand. “I’ll always be here.”

“Promise?” George hated being so needy, but in that moment he had to have the reassurance. His hand cupped Fred’s arse tightly.

Fred drew back, capturing his gaze. “Yes,” he whispered, crashing their mouths together for their first kiss. It was a melding of tongues, a homecoming, an answer to so many questions.

When they pulled apart, everything seemed so much clearer. “Love you, idiot,” Fred confessed, burying his face in George’s shoulder as he continued

“You, too, prat,” George managed. “Now shut up and wank me.” And as Fred obliged, he smiled, thrusting into his brother’s hand, relishing the slide of their wet cocks against each other. “Faster,” George gasped, his eyes slitted with pleasure as the room spun.

Fred was grunting, making these sexy little noises as he licked the skin of George’s neck and shoved himself against him, clutching the table with his free hand to get better leverage.

And of course Fred would know just how to touch him, George realized in a flash of insight. It must be like touching himself, only so much better...

His orgasm rolled over him in a wave, making George shudder as he spurted his come over Fred’s hand and belly and cock. Only a moment later Fred came, too, biting George’s shoulder as he spilled his seed between them.

When he regained the ability to speak, George murmured in the vicinity of Fred’s hair, “Bedroom?”

He could feel the curve of Fred’s smile as he replied. “Yeah, but we’ll need to Transfigure our beds into one big one. With my luck I’ll fall in between them if we push them together.”

“Yeah, you would,” George agreed with a grin.

Fred smacked him lightly. “Wanker,” he muttered without heat.

“Not any more,” George said. “Not now that I’ve got you.”

Fred pulled back to look at him. “Yeah, lucky sod, you do have me,” he agreed, smiling into George’s eyes. “Or you will, once we stop gabbing and get to it.”

Taking that unsubtle hint, George stood up and, grabbing Fred’s hand, dragged him into their bedroom. As they laughed and ran, the excitement of their new life and love before them, neither noticed when the pendant disappeared with a quick flash.

~

Melody generally loved her job, but lately things had been far too tense. Her bosses were generally good-natured blokes, but something was now straining their relationship, and while she had no idea what it was, she did know it was driving her mad.

With a sigh she approached the shop, dreading another day of thick tension. Prats. Wish I could slam their heads together. “I need a cuppa before I go in there,” she muttered under her breath.

“And is there a tea shop around here?” a friendly voice asked.

Melody jumped, startled. She hadn’t noticed the old woman sitting on the bench. “Oh! Um, yes,” she said, something about the aged lady immediately reassuring her. Perhaps it was her twinkling eyes?

With a smile Melody pointed to the tea shop at the end of the street, and something made her say, “I’m just on my way there, actually. I can show you.”

The old witch got to her feet, startling Melody a bit with her spryness. “Thank you, child,” she said. “I was craving a good cup of tea and here you come along, just like an angel.”

Melody blushed. “Oh, it’s no problem. I work just here,” she said, gesturing to the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes sign. “And I’m trying to fortify myself before I go in.”

The elderly woman nodded. “Well, they’re lucky to have you, and I suspect things shall get better in your work environment,” she said sagely. “Particularly if you let them have this morning to themselves, I imagine. Shall we go?”

Melody blinked, then smiled. The old woman had no idea what she was talking about, but she was a nice old crone, so she would humour her. Plus, a later start sounded good to her. “I recommend their cream tea,” Melody said as they set out. “I think you’d like that.” And as they walked she noted the unusual pendant hanging around the woman’s neck, but thought nothing of it.

~