Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Fred/George
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There's nothing the Weaseley twins like more than spending a summer afternoon throwing gnomes.
Disclaimer: Fred and George are © JK Rowling
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George can't help but notice just how perfect today is. The sun is shining merrily, it's a little hot but nothing that's really bothering. Like Fred always says, the sun is happiest when it's the hottest. There's really nothing like swinging gnomes around on a pleasant summer day. When it's just him and Fred, grabbing the little suckers and spinning around in circles until they fly off over a hill. When he can hear his brother's laughter ringing out across the fields and mingling with his own and the cries of flying gnomes. When George notices that the gnomes are starting to get scarce he grins to himself, he knows how these little chores usually end up and the though makes him shiver in anticipation. There's another high-pitched cry and a gnome goes flying. George watches it go, grinning.
"I think that was the last one." Fred speculates, glancing over the garden. His tone is innocent but his smirk begs to differ. He gives George a look, that look where George knows he's in trouble but he wouldn't run for all sickles in Gringott's.
"Oh?" George asks, raising his eyebrows and smirking, obviously egging Fred on, "Are you sure?" Fred took the bait and grinned, eyes gleaming mischievously as he stepped toward his twin.
"Uh-oh, I think I missed one..." Fred licks his lips, springing forward and grabbing George's hands and spinning him around. George cries out, his cry turning into laughter that's mirrored by his twin. They spin until Fred stops abruptly and George crashes into him with enough force to knock them both down. They tumble to the ground which starts a wrestling match that ends quickly with Fred pinning George beneath him. It was quiet while they waited for the world to stop spinning and their breath to come back. As soon as it does Fred swoops down, capturing his twin's lips in a passionate kiss.
Here in the garden, with the overgrown weeds sheltering them and Fred's lips hard against his, George can't help but think how perfect all of this was. When Fred does pull away they look at each other, lips in the same exact smile. George can't imagine a better place to be, or a better person to be pinning him to the ground. They're staring at each other and both of them know this is one of those twin moments. One of those moments when they know exactly what the other one is thinking and they feel exactly the same. They don't need to say it, really. So they think it and their combined thought rings out like their laughter had moments ago, bouncing across the fields and dancing with the happy sun.
These are the days I live for.