Fic: Stepping Out
May. 18th, 2016 08:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: Stepping Out
Author:alisanne
Rating: PG
Pairing: George Weasley/Harry Potter, Fred Weasley
Summary: Harry is sent to talk to George.
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: Canon character death alluded to.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_may_madness' 2016 fest.
Day Eighteen prompt(s) used: Stop it. You know that's my weak spot.
Company, speech, mushrooms
Pairing: Fred/George/Harry
Kink: wanking
Beta(s):sevfan and emynn.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Stepping Out
~
“I wasn’t really expecting company,” George said.
Harry smiled. “Yeah, sorry, I was just passing by and thought—”
George rolled his eyes. “You can save the prepared speech, Harry. I know Mum sent you because she’s concerned or whatever.”
Harry sighed. “She’s not the only one. We’re all worried about you. You spend all your time in your flat these days, Ron’s the one who’s really running the Wheezes, and everyone wants to see you get out more.”
“And you’re the poor sap they sent to talk to me?” George shook his head, stepping aside. “Fine. You may as well come in.”
Entering, Harry looked around. It was, to put it kindly, a mess. Clothes were piled on the sofa and chairs, dirty dishes littered every flat surface, and it was dark, all the windows shuttered. “Bloody hell, you could raise mushrooms in here,” he muttered.
That startled a laugh out of George. “You never were one to pull your punches.”
Harry flushed. “Sorry, I just—”
“It’s fine.” George walked past him. “Want something to drink?”
Harry nodded, trying not to ogle him. It wasn’t the time, after all. “Yeah, sure.”
Pulling out two bottles of ale, George tossed one to Harry then said, “Clear a spot anywhere and have a seat.”
Perching on the edge of the sofa, Harry took a long pull from the bottle. He cleared his throat. “So.”
George smirked. “So.”
Harry exhaled. “Don’t you think it’s time you get out, mate? Get some fresh air?”
“We like the air in here just fine, actually.”
Harry blinked. “We?”
George went still. “Did I say we? I mean me. Me, I mean I, like the air in here just fine.”
“You meant you and Fred.” Harry leaned forward. “You do realise he’s gone, right? I know it’s been a tough year, but—”
George wouldn’t look at him. “I know he’d dead, if that’s what you mean.”
Harry smiled sadly. “Dead. Gone. It’s the same thing.”
“No, actually, it’s not.” The voice came from behind Harry, who jumped about two feet in the air.
Spinning, his eyes went wide. “F…Fred?”
Fred, see-through and floating above the sofa, grinned at Harry. “Heya, Harry.”
Harry’s mouth worked for a moment. “What…How…?”
Floating over to George, Fred hovered above him. “Yeah, I know, I was supposed to move on and all, but turns out, mine and Georgie’s souls are linked. I’m not going anywhere while my other half’s here.”
Looking back and forth between them, Harry shook his head. “So…what does this mean? You’re just in here doing…what exactly?”
“Well,” said Fred, “we talk—”
“Compare notes for new Wheezes ideas—” said George.
“Wank—” said Fred.
George shot Fred a look. “You weren’t supposed to tell him that.”
Leaning down, Harry pushed a pile of clothes onto the floor before sinking down onto a chair. “Ghosts can wank?” he asked weakly.
“Ghosts can do whatever we want, Harry.” Fred winked. “Wanna see?”
Harry was pretty sure his face was beetroot red. “No!”
“Why not?” Fred’s eye’s narrowed. “Are you saying ghosts shouldn’t wank? Are you prejudiced? It’s a natural bodily function, you know.” He grinned. “I bet even McGonagall wanks.”
“Stop it!” Harry cried.
“Or maybe,” Fred continued, remorseless, “it’s just me you’re not interested in watching wank. Because I saw the way you looked at Georgie’s arse when you came in.”
Oh, fuck. “You did?” Harry whispered.
George, in the middle of taking a drink from his bottle, spewed ale everywhere. “He did?”
“Uh huh.” Fred, looking triumphant, continued, “So if you two want to get busy, I can make myself scarce.” He hummed. “Although I may pop in on occasion to watch.” He and George looked at each other. “You know that’s my weak spot.”
George raised an eyebrow and somehow Fred managed to look sheepish. Harry had no idea how.
Looking down at his hands, Harry exhaled. “I…”
“Yeah,” said George, interrupting. “Why don’t you do that, Freddie?”
Harry’s head popped up and he stared at George. “What?”
George’s smile was rueful, as was his shrug. “He knows my weakness, and apparently so does Mum.”
“Disturbing thought, that is,” said Fred. “Mum knowing, I mean, not you, Harry.”
“But yeah,” continued George, ignoring Fred. “I’ve fancied you for a while.”
“What do you think we’ve been talking about while we’ve been holed up in here?” Fred chimed in. His smile went wicked. “And who do you think Georgie wanks to the thought of?”
George pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shut UP, Freddie.”
Fred looked vaguely affronted. “Well. I guess I know when I’m not wanted.” Floating towards the wall, he said, “Have fun, lads. I’m off to look in on Charlie. He’s always doing someone, I mean something, exciting!”
Once Fred disappeared, Harry licked his lips. “You fancy me?”
“Yep.” George smiled. “So, what do you say?”
Harry grinned back. “I say we go out for a pint and some chips, chat a bit, and see where things take us.” He looked around again. “And maybe if we, you know,” he waved a hand between them, “…then we can go back to mine? Because honestly, George, this place is awful.”
“Fair enough.” George stood up, holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”
And as they left hand in hand, neither one of them saw the ghost watching, grinning from ear to ear.
~
Author:
alisanneRating: PG
Pairing: George Weasley/Harry Potter, Fred Weasley
Summary: Harry is sent to talk to George.
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: Canon character death alluded to.
A/N: Written for
hp_may_madness' 2016 fest. Day Eighteen prompt(s) used: Stop it. You know that's my weak spot.
Company, speech, mushrooms
Pairing: Fred/George/Harry
Kink: wanking
Beta(s):
sevfan and emynn.Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Stepping Out
~
“I wasn’t really expecting company,” George said.
Harry smiled. “Yeah, sorry, I was just passing by and thought—”
George rolled his eyes. “You can save the prepared speech, Harry. I know Mum sent you because she’s concerned or whatever.”
Harry sighed. “She’s not the only one. We’re all worried about you. You spend all your time in your flat these days, Ron’s the one who’s really running the Wheezes, and everyone wants to see you get out more.”
“And you’re the poor sap they sent to talk to me?” George shook his head, stepping aside. “Fine. You may as well come in.”
Entering, Harry looked around. It was, to put it kindly, a mess. Clothes were piled on the sofa and chairs, dirty dishes littered every flat surface, and it was dark, all the windows shuttered. “Bloody hell, you could raise mushrooms in here,” he muttered.
That startled a laugh out of George. “You never were one to pull your punches.”
Harry flushed. “Sorry, I just—”
“It’s fine.” George walked past him. “Want something to drink?”
Harry nodded, trying not to ogle him. It wasn’t the time, after all. “Yeah, sure.”
Pulling out two bottles of ale, George tossed one to Harry then said, “Clear a spot anywhere and have a seat.”
Perching on the edge of the sofa, Harry took a long pull from the bottle. He cleared his throat. “So.”
George smirked. “So.”
Harry exhaled. “Don’t you think it’s time you get out, mate? Get some fresh air?”
“We like the air in here just fine, actually.”
Harry blinked. “We?”
George went still. “Did I say we? I mean me. Me, I mean I, like the air in here just fine.”
“You meant you and Fred.” Harry leaned forward. “You do realise he’s gone, right? I know it’s been a tough year, but—”
George wouldn’t look at him. “I know he’d dead, if that’s what you mean.”
Harry smiled sadly. “Dead. Gone. It’s the same thing.”
“No, actually, it’s not.” The voice came from behind Harry, who jumped about two feet in the air.
Spinning, his eyes went wide. “F…Fred?”
Fred, see-through and floating above the sofa, grinned at Harry. “Heya, Harry.”
Harry’s mouth worked for a moment. “What…How…?”
Floating over to George, Fred hovered above him. “Yeah, I know, I was supposed to move on and all, but turns out, mine and Georgie’s souls are linked. I’m not going anywhere while my other half’s here.”
Looking back and forth between them, Harry shook his head. “So…what does this mean? You’re just in here doing…what exactly?”
“Well,” said Fred, “we talk—”
“Compare notes for new Wheezes ideas—” said George.
“Wank—” said Fred.
George shot Fred a look. “You weren’t supposed to tell him that.”
Leaning down, Harry pushed a pile of clothes onto the floor before sinking down onto a chair. “Ghosts can wank?” he asked weakly.
“Ghosts can do whatever we want, Harry.” Fred winked. “Wanna see?”
Harry was pretty sure his face was beetroot red. “No!”
“Why not?” Fred’s eye’s narrowed. “Are you saying ghosts shouldn’t wank? Are you prejudiced? It’s a natural bodily function, you know.” He grinned. “I bet even McGonagall wanks.”
“Stop it!” Harry cried.
“Or maybe,” Fred continued, remorseless, “it’s just me you’re not interested in watching wank. Because I saw the way you looked at Georgie’s arse when you came in.”
Oh, fuck. “You did?” Harry whispered.
George, in the middle of taking a drink from his bottle, spewed ale everywhere. “He did?”
“Uh huh.” Fred, looking triumphant, continued, “So if you two want to get busy, I can make myself scarce.” He hummed. “Although I may pop in on occasion to watch.” He and George looked at each other. “You know that’s my weak spot.”
George raised an eyebrow and somehow Fred managed to look sheepish. Harry had no idea how.
Looking down at his hands, Harry exhaled. “I…”
“Yeah,” said George, interrupting. “Why don’t you do that, Freddie?”
Harry’s head popped up and he stared at George. “What?”
George’s smile was rueful, as was his shrug. “He knows my weakness, and apparently so does Mum.”
“Disturbing thought, that is,” said Fred. “Mum knowing, I mean, not you, Harry.”
“But yeah,” continued George, ignoring Fred. “I’ve fancied you for a while.”
“What do you think we’ve been talking about while we’ve been holed up in here?” Fred chimed in. His smile went wicked. “And who do you think Georgie wanks to the thought of?”
George pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shut UP, Freddie.”
Fred looked vaguely affronted. “Well. I guess I know when I’m not wanted.” Floating towards the wall, he said, “Have fun, lads. I’m off to look in on Charlie. He’s always doing someone, I mean something, exciting!”
Once Fred disappeared, Harry licked his lips. “You fancy me?”
“Yep.” George smiled. “So, what do you say?”
Harry grinned back. “I say we go out for a pint and some chips, chat a bit, and see where things take us.” He looked around again. “And maybe if we, you know,” he waved a hand between them, “…then we can go back to mine? Because honestly, George, this place is awful.”
“Fair enough.” George stood up, holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”
And as they left hand in hand, neither one of them saw the ghost watching, grinning from ear to ear.
~
