it's not like he owes george any explanation. he can go off flying on his own whenever he wants. and george doesn't have anything to say about it. he's his twin, not his mother.

still, he knows the question will be there. he knows he's broken an unspoken rule by heading out without a word to george. he'll have to answer him some way.

i had a sudden burning need to check out the panoramic view of the pitch from up on the goal posts? not all too convincing, really.

i saw some louche characters hanging around the pitch earlier and thought i'd go investigate? can he really call harry and ron louche characters, whatever it was they were getting up to under the stands? and why wouldn't he bring george along?

i thought if i had to sit there for one more second, watching alicia clinging to your side like a bloody barnacle, i might vomit.

hm. yes. well. they say the truth is always best but sometimes it makes the least sense and what do you do then?

george doesn't actually say anything to him when he comes back into the common room, but his eyes follow fred across the room to the stairs. he makes it to their room only a few seconds after fred.

"hey," he says to fred's back. he reaches out to his shoulder to turn him around. face to face with george, fred realizes how silly he's been. of course george wouldn't ask him. george always just knows. which really, in this situation, may be even worse.

george is looking into his face and fred begins to squirm under the scrutiny. how long before george figures it all out? "shh," george says, to calm him, before leaning in and kissing him.

one kiss, light and soft and quick. a second, slower and heavier. a third and fred opens his lips and it's george, it's just george, so how can it be something he's never felt before? as the tingling heat spreads from fred's lips to his stomach to his knees, george pulls away and studies fred's face again.

"yes, that's what i thought."
 

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