A/N: Whoo first publishy sort of fanfic! It's probably awful. More shall come in the near future, but I have an issue with not writing things in order. So I have super awesome future chapters and need to...erm...build the bridge to get there. xD So yes, please review, such and such. Oh, quick warning, will contain lovely twincest slash. If you don't like, don't read.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the characters, and as you should be able to assume, I am not the awesometastic owner, J. K. Rowling.

He took in a large breath, letting it out excruciatingly slow, waiting to fill his lungs again until the identical chest in the bed next to him rose. He was used to this ritual by now, imitating his sleeping twins breathing until it lulled him to sleep. There was something comforting in being in sync with him, something happened naturally quite often. Tonight it wasn't working as well. He felt alone here, separated by the few feet between the beds. That small expanse seemed like miles, however, and he let out a quiet sigh, breaking the steady rhythm he had developed. He had tried to ignore the fact that It was getting worse.

He used to be able to ignore It, it turn his back to It. He thought, for a while, that he had defeated It. But It came back with a vehement passion, devouring Fred more every day. He had stopped It at a certain point, leaving himself semi-consumed. He could survive like that, feeding It with playful touches and lingering glances. Never enough to fully satisfy It, but to quiet Its roaring to a gentle grumble. But lately, It wasn't quieted so easily. Touches occurred more frequently, eyes unable to tear themselves away for so much longer than necessary. And nothing was enough. It got louder every day.

Fred rolled over with a groan. It wanted more, so much more, but he couldn't. George would notice if he tried to take much more. He had already caught Fred staring a few times, but he would simply shrug it off and flash a grin. One of those brilliant grins, his supple pink lips pulled back over white teeth, eyes crinkling up at the corners, sparkling lightly…

It screamed loudly, the thought of the smile simply teasing. Fred stood, stumbling to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet, blasting out icy water and splashing it over his face. He did this for several moments, waiting until It slowly fell to a dull roar. He stood slowly, looking into the mirror, blinking a few times. His hair was plastered to his forehead now, water still dripping down his face. He would never understand how people confused them. George's lips had slight curve Fred's didn't, adding a spark to him Fred simply didn't have. That spark carried on to his eyes, that marvelous brown swimming with life. Fred's own eyes seemed dull, so dull in comparison. He took a moment longer staring at his reflection before walking back to the room.

Climbing into bed he curled on his side, looking to George's bed again. His chest was still rising and falling steadily. Fred took a deep breath before imitating him again. All he had to do was breathe.