Normalcy

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It was hot out. George stared out of his flat's window and watched as the pinkness of early morning melted into a mellow orange. On the street below him he saw cars whizzing by, stopping, parking, nearly hitting one another. It all seemed so impersonal out there, in the Muggle world. All business and metal; no personality or drastic change. It was so unlike the quirky wizarding world he was used to.

He wasn't homesick, though. After all, he went to Diagon Alley Monday through Saturday to run the joke shop with Fred. It was just that the Muggle world was so very different and strange it always tempted him to watch it every Sunday morning he could manage.

The minutes passed slowly until it was around ten o'clock. George glanced over his shoulder and into his bedroom. Fred lay sprawled and tangled in the light sheets. His head was back, his mouth a small "o", and one arm was thrown carelessly over his eyes. It looked sweet and endearing as well as annoying. Fred always slept late. Whenever George asked him to wake up early with him, Fred just snorted and teased him mercilessly.

He rolled his eyes at the memory and got up to make breakfast. This was another thing Fred liked to tease him about; cooking. He could just as well use a wand and get faster results- but he didn't. George liked the anticipation of eating his own creations. Right now in fact, as bacon sizzled in the frying pan, his mouth watered as the smells came up to tease his freckled nose.

Fred groaned in the next room.

Hangover,

George thought. He snickered as he took up a whisk to begin making his omelet.

The whisk immediately gave a light pop and turned into a pair of underwear. Used underwear, if the smell was any indication.

George scrunched up his nose as he brought the garment to eye level, "Yuck."

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, things like this happened all the time in the Twins' household.

Revenge for the talking toilet seat, I think,

he thought, snickering again as he thought of ways to get back at his brother. As the smell of burning bacon reached his nostrils he turned off the oven and picked up his real whisk. The pair of underwear was thrown unceremoniously into his bedroom, where it hit Fred on the face.

Another groan and evil sounding mumbles instantly erupted from the room. George grinned and whisked his omelet easily. The noise died down and was replaced by the sound of running water. George poured the raw mixed egg into a frying pan and waited as it cooked. Soon, omelet, toast, and bacon in hand, he sat at the table and slowly savored his breakfast in between sips of coffee. The running water stopped.

Fred walked in, a towel around his waist, and grinned mischievously at his twin. "I see you found my underwear. Thanks, I've been looking for it for weeks now," he said innocently and kissed him on the cheek.

George snorted into his coffee. "Smells like you've been wearing it for weeks now," he countered.

Fred just grinned, making George think he should hide all of the sobering potion just for the Hell of it. "There's that too."

Taking a bite of his bacon, George realized he hadn't made anything for his brother. "Hey, would you like some? I can make you something," he offered, feeling guilty.

Fred shook his head, and his face brightened. He got up and went to the refrigerator. Then he pulled open the freezer and took out a box.

George stared at it, an unwanted smile breaking out on his face. They were adults now, and he somehow managed to be the more mature one, but whenever Fred did something like old times he had to be amused. They weren't old, only in their twenties, but Fred still acted like he was fifteen.

And as much as George pretended he disapproved... it was brilliant.

Fred dropped the cardboard box on the counter and started scooping its contents into a bowl. He was still only wearing a towel and was not yet dried from his shower. Glistening drops of water fell from his hair and trailed designs on his body. George watched as the muscles flexed and constricted and expanded under the flesh... The perfectly freckled flesh. He didn't know he was watching in slow motion until time sped up and Fred was sitting in front of him, a bowl of ice cream being presented pompously to him.

A comfortable silence descended on the table. Outside cars honked and trucks squealed, and people all talked loudly in the busy streets... but inside it was normal for George, or at least as normal as his life could be. A bit of cream on Fred's lip caught his attention. He leaned over, startling his twin, and kissed him softly. Yes, it was normal, and as Fred kissed back, he knew it didn't want anything to be different.

The End.