in the car. by glock.

 

"Forget it." Fred waved him away, like that ever stopped George.

"What? Wasn't it funny?"

"Yeah! Yeah, course it was, but."

George sat back and looked at Fred, who carefully maneouvered the car over the pine tree. "You're still."

"Yeah. Yeah, wouldn't you be?" Fred tore his eyes from the clouds and frowned. For a second there he was able to see himself in the rearview mirror and the two side view mirrors, and. He looked back at the clouds.

George sat up, moving a bit closer, since he never cared for seat belts. "Fred. Look, I'm." He struggled for words for once, and wanted instead to bite the bone jutting out from Fred's wrist. Freckled taste in his mouth and sudden inspiration. "Bloody hell, I feel like, like Charlie? With the--"

Fred found himself grinning, even before he cut George off. "And he said 'No, Perce, wyrvens taste good.'"

George's eyes lit up hopeful, and punchline. "Eh heh, and Percy liked it! Ahhhh"

"Hold the wheel," Fred let go so he could grab onto George's sweater before kissing him.

George steered, but his eyes closed smugly.

"You love it," Fred retorted.

"Bloody bastard," George added.