Eight Of Spades
"No! Not like that!" George shouted at him. "Seriously bro, when did you become so dumb?"
Fred shrugged as everyone around them laughed. The twins were sat in the middle of the living room in the Burrow with Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Sirius and Remus sat on the sofas around them. They were trying out a new Muggle card trick and it was going horribly wrong. Fred tried shuffling the cards but ended up dropping them all over the floor. He growled, "Oh, for fu-"
Harry laughed as Fred gathered them all together, mumbling incoherent curses under his breath. "Pass 'em here, Freddie." George shook his head at his brother. "This is how you do it." After sorting them, the ginger boy furrowed his eyebrows. "Where is the eight of spades?"
"Is it not there?"
"Obviously not, otherwise I wouldn't have asked, would I?" George rolled his eyes. "We can try it without it but it'll be hard." George shuffled the cards, a bit better than his twin.
"That it will." Fred replied in a huff, leaning back on the sofa he was sitting in front of. Harry, who was sitting next to him, laughed and gave him a some-what comforting nudge.
"Aww, it'll be okay, Fred." Harry placed a hand on his thigh and squeezed gently. Fred grinned and Harry could've sworn he saw the ginger boy blush.
Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts and the end of Lord Voldemort, Fred and Harry had, somehow, grown closer. Seeing some of your closest friends die the most brutal deaths right before your very eyes did tend to do that to people. Many nights, Fred and Harry would curl up in front of the fire at the Burrow late at night, sometimes talking about everything and sometimes talking about nothing at all. Sometimes, as a comfortable silence engulfed them pair, they would look into each other's eyes, communicating feelings without exchanging words. It was strange, Harry thought, being able to talk about things with his best friend's brother rather than his best friend. But, it was comforting.
Fred, on the other hand, found it all confusing. One minute, he was friends with Harry, because Ron was, then suddenly, they were best friends. Then Fred looked at Harry in a different light. It was as if someone had knocked a bludger to his redhead (he suspected George, of course) and pointed to the young raven haired boy with dazzling green eyes and a unique scar upon his forehead. Dazzling? Oh yes, dazzling. Fred didn't know what it was but something about his eyes had his stomach doing back flips (again, he suspected it was George's doing) and his heart fluttering wildly in his chest. Fred had never doubted his sexuality but when it came to Harry, he thought anything was possible.
So, there they sat, Harry's hand on Fred's thigh and Fred was grinning and blushing like a love struck idiot. He quickly looked away, hoping Harry didn't notice how red he had become, and caught Sirius' eye from across the room. Sirius raised his eyebrows then gave a smug grin. "Knew it." He mouthed.
"Guys," Fred said, glaring at the ex-Marauder, "I'm just gonna talk to Sirius outside a second." He stood and, almost viciously, grabbed the man's leather clad arm and lead him to the back door. "What was that about? What do you know?" Fred demanded once Sirius shut the door behind him, loving the feel of the cool October breeze whipping gently across his heated face.
Sirius gave a smirk as he scanned Fred's freckled face. "You like Harry." He said.
Fred's jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide. Had he really been that obvious? "W-what?" He stuttered, face growing red with embarrassment once more. "N-no... I-I'm s-straight, Sirius. I d-don't... I don't like Harry-"
"Stop your blabbering and just listen to me, will you?" Sirius cut him off. "Every time you play Quidditch with him, you can't keep your eyes off of him. Every time he talks to you, you make far too much eye contact than normal friends would. Whenever he smiles at you you grin like a bloody fool and go all red. So, in short, you like him." Sirius concluded, yet another smug grin gracing his fine features. The younger twin bit his lip as he studied his trainers. "And I think he likes you back." Sirius pondered, not missing Fred's sudden stillness. "I mean, with Harry, it can be hard to tell. He can be confusing at the best of times."
"Isn't he straight?" Fred looked at the older man with curiosity.
"Not sure." Sirius shrugged and sat down on the patio steps. "He came to me a couple of days ago saying how he was starting to feel different, saying how he thinks he might be bisexual." Fred couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he sat down next to Sirius. "And that grin just makes it way too obvious that you like him."
"Shut up." Fred shook his head, still unable to wipe the smile from his face. "It's not that I like him, I just..."
"Love him?" Sirius laughed.
"No!" Fred defended himself, glaring slightly. "He listens to what I have to say, no matter how stupid it is. He knows when I'm upset or angry about something and knows how to make me feel better-"
"Oh, I bet he does." Sirius said, wiggling his eyebrows at the teenager.
"Shut up and let me have my moment." Fred elbowed him in the ribs and carried on with his speech. "We can sit in silence and just be comfortable with each other. Even in those awkward silences which aren't exactly awkward for us, as I just explained." Fred counted off the reasons why he loved liked Harry Potter.
"I think you should go for it." Sirius told him, leaning back on his elbows. "I mean, what have you got to lose?"
"An amazing friend and my pride?" Fred said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"What, you think he'll turn you down?" The older man ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "I doubt it. More like jump your bones at the first opportunity he gets. He's crazy for you."
Fred furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying to ignore the heat that was tempted to creep up his neck. "Just a minute ago, you were saying how he wasn't sure about his sexuality and now your saying he's up for a shag with me?"
Sirius shrugged. "Hey, I haven't the slightest clue about much these days." He gave a small laugh.
Fred rolled his eyes and stood. "You're impossible, you are." He said as he shoved Sirius through the door.
"Just promise me you'll try." Sirius said, stopping in the doorway that connected the kitchen and the living room.
"I don't know." Fred sighed.
"Try what?" An achingly familiar voice asked from behind Sirius.
Sirius leapt aside, momentarily frightened by the voice, to find Harry staring between them. "Nothing." Fred responded, almost too quickly.
"You know you can't keep secrets from me, Fred." Harry said, leaning tantalizingly against the door frame. "And you're the worst liar in history."
Sirius grinned at Fred who narrowed his eyes in return. "I think I'll just leave you two alone then." He said before slipping from the room.
"Everyone's gone to bed." Harry said, retrieving two glasses from a cupboard. He put them on the table in the middle of the room and walked over to another cupboard next to Fred. Opening it, he told Fred, "And I feel like a drink." He pulled out a full bottle of Firewhiskey and set it on the table also. "So sit down." Harry grinned at the ginger haired boy.
"You sure?" Fred asked before taking a seat opposite to him.
"The Fred Weasley asking whether or not we should be drinking some Firewhiskey?" Harry said with a small laugh. His laugh always managed to make Fred completely lose his train of thought (on the rare occasions on which he actually had a train of thought). "That's one of the most bizarre things I've heard." Harry smiled as he poured the liquid into the glasses and slid one to Fred.
"Yeah." He replied quietly. "Yeah, guess it is."
"What's up?" Harry asked after taking a sip of his drink.
Fred didn't answer at first. First he imitated Harry, taking a sip and loving the familiar feeling of the liquid burning down his throat, then replied, "Nothing."
"Fred." Harry said sternly. "You know I can tell, right?"
Fred finished off his drink and rose from the table. "I said, nothing." He left the room without a backwards glance and ran to his room, legs shaking and face burning.
He didn't know how Harry always managed to get him in this state; so unbelievably happy yet so damn frustrated. Never had Fred dared stray over to the romantic side but being so close to Harry made him want to sing love songs to him from Hogwarts' Astronomy Tower, if he could actually sing, that was.
When Fred reached his room, George was asleep, snoring lightly, for which he was grateful. He didn't want his brother questioning him on the tears that gathered at the corner of his eyes, threatening to fall. Why Fred wanted to cry was obvious, but then again, pretty strange. He liked Harry. A lot. And being so close to him, wanting to touch him, wanting to hold him, reduced Fred to a mess. But why Fred liked Harry so much was strange. For starters, Fred was a guy and so was Harry. So Fred liking Harry would mean Fred was at least bisexual, if not, gay. But Fred was positive he was straight. So how could he like Harry?
The confused boy took off his t-shirt and jeans and climbed into bed, not loving the fact that Harry's bedroom was right across the hall and he could hear the boy humming what sounded vaguely like Panic! At The Disco's Lying Is The Most Fun as he passed. Fred clenched his teeth, stopping himself from whimpering, as he watched Harry's shadow pass under his door. Boy, did he feel pathetic.
An hour or so later, sleep dragged Fred into twisted dreams of the raven haired boy. His bright green eyes looking up at him, his soft plump lips grazing Fred's chest, nibbling their way across his jaw then, finally, meeting his lips. The nineteen year old woke, drenched in sweat with his back arched off the bed, biting his lip and panting. He groaned, looking out at the still dark night sky, and swung his legs off the bed and slipped silently from his room.
He walked slowly down the stairs, skipping the creaky one, and found himself sitting in the kitchen. The Firewhiskey bottle remained in it's place from only a couple hours prior, so he took it upon himself to have a glass or two. Taking his second glass into the living room, he sat on a sofa and picked up the deck of playing cards which were still on the coffee table. Shuffling through them, he realised the eight of spades was, most definitely missing.
"Looking for this?" A voice asked from behind him.
Fred caught his breath. Looking behind him, he found Harry, clad in only his boxers, holding up the exact card he was looking for. "Ah, so it was you, was it?" He tried to keep his voice as even as possible under the intense gaze of one Harry Potter, the only guy who could make his insides melt. Heck, the only person who could make his insides melt.
"Indeed it was." Harry laughed and handed the card back. He casually walked over to the window, peering out over the silent field. "What was up with you, Fred?" He asked quietly, not looking at him. "You were acting very odd."
Fred bit his lip as he rose from the couch and stood behind Harry. "I'm sorry... I-I just..." He trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say. Harry turned around slowly, his eyes gleaming. He rested his hands on Fred's shoulders and pushed him back gently, guiding him to the nearest sofa. "Harry?" Fred was too stunned to say anything else.
Harry didn't say anything. He licked his lips and pushed Fred down, so he was sat with Harry straddling him. Harry grinned before kissing him, gently at first, then biting on his bottom lip.
"Gay." Fred said quietly. "Definitely gay." He grinned before lying down with Harry on top of him.
As morning dawned upon the couple, sunlight gushing through the window, they were found cuddling on the same couch, only a blanket covering their naked forms. Harry rested his head on Fred's chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Is it still me that makes you sweat? Am I who you thinking about in bed..." He sung gently, Fred humming along with a small smile on his face. "I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better..." Harry grinned, trailing off. He looked at Fred with his bright eyes.
Fred kissed his boyfriend's forehead gently and closed his eyes once more. The light silence was soon broke by the all too familiar laugh of Sirius, followed by, "Yes! Moony owes me six galleons!"