Another Life

Fred thinks that maybe, just maybe, in some off-side, distant, and other-worldly reality - children would be the kind of thing for him and his lover.

It is commonplace for lovers or married couples to want to have children, isn't it? They bring an unbridled amount of joy and happiness that can be rivaled by few other things...after all, they were bourne [or adopted] out of nothing but love and commitment. To pass on the next generation with the person he intended to spend the rest of his life with sounded a little touching to him.

Children, however, were not going to happen, and Fred realizes this as he silently sits next to his George, arm wrapped protectively around his waist and head resting most comfortably on the junction between his neck and his shoulder with his thoughts whirling about.

It is with very little regret that younger Weasley notes children just aren't cutting it. On their own, he and George are already intertwined in a sin that was unforgiveable and damn well unspeakable - this was a path they walked most happily together, but one that they couldn't force others to join. Even youth would know and sense when something might be slightly amiss if their adopting fathers are both brothers and lovers in the same twist.

There is another snare in this idea - George is a man who enjoys silence and treasures it as golden. Having those devils run about screaming, crying, and shouting in their innocent endeavors would cause him to place his wand to his temple and end himself right then and there...nothing would ever get bloody accomplished in their shop or in their personal life if they heckled him every damned moment, and the notion of silence ever existing would vanish sooner than Harry could under his Invisibility Cloak.

A light smile fits Fred lips as he visualizes the hell George would endure, coffee spilling left and right as a miniaturized version of them runs around the island counter with a devilish grin, the other breaking a couple of tea cups with a quick-witted excuse: 'I was just practicing my Levitating Spell!'

The smile fades after a moment; however, because Fred too becomes a third, tricky entanglement in this idea.

Fred himself is a man with little ambition and a fair bit of impatience; children in his mind equate to more effort than they're worth. They would drain him of all of his time and attention, and that is something he couldn't settle with - he's got a life to live, with a shop to run and a man that needs his love - changing a diaper every fucking hour and soothing an angry cry the next would not really add up to 'adorable enjoyment' in his mind.

Really, are children a loss for them?

The smile returns, wider than before. Fred decides that he and George are full and content in their little flat, running their shop and living as they please most easily...besides; Fred believes he is too bloody fucking selfish to put his efforts elsewhere anywhere - George most happily occupies the majority of his focus and his love, and that within itself is good enough for him.

"Fred..." George turns slightly, kissing his lover on the cheek with a soft purr. "Fred, baby, what are you thinking about?"

"Hmn?" The younger Weasley smiles softly, massaging his love's exposed shoulder and stealing a languid kiss on his lips. "Nothing much..."

"You know that's a God awful lie...you and thinking are a bad combination together..."

"Not true..." Fred feigns shock. The elder Weasley smirks and nips playfully at his lover's bottom lip. "I am perfectly capable of thought, thank you very fucking much~."

"Hardly."

This single, sensual whisper makes Fred shiver with delight - he knows just what George is craving and matches his desire with a tender squeeze George's porcelain thigh.

"Fred..."

"Yeah?"

"What were you really thinking about?"

"You're my twin, yeah? Can't you just tune in and read my thoughts?"

George lets out an amused snort. "It's not as easy as you'd think, Freddie. Sometimes you look like you went off to outer space..."

Fred grins. "Hmn...well, I'll tell you what, Georgie..." calloused hands explore his elder brother's abdomen, and a pleasurable heat pools quietly in his groin as George moans lowly in response. "Let's make love now...and I'll tell you later...I think it'll amuse you, to be honest..."

This prospect had George teetering on curiosity, but Fred's constant touches were victor - he needed to make love with this man, and now.

Arms hastily wrap around the younger twin's neck, and lips are meeting with a more rushed, needy passion that was unmatched minutes before. The elder twin falls into the bed first, toes curling with delight and skin shuddering lightly upon being tickled from the twins' ebony satin sheets and the pearl-white cotton comforter on top.

"Promise to tell me?" George whispers in mock-innocence. Fred chuckles and murmurs an amused 'yes' before their kissing resumes.

In the end, Fred's mind has changed. Even if some off-side, distant, and other-worldly reality...children would never work out. Even if he and George had managed to abandon their love of languid laziness and peaceful quiet, those bloody devils would have one hell of a time trying to keep up with the original set of troublemakers.