Four more nights, and it would all be over. The wedding would come and go, everything would be packed up, and the family would be gone. The house would not be so cramped, and their mom would not be so stressed. No more pre-wedding jitters would create tension in the house. In four more days, everything would be normal. Four more nights, and Fred Weasely would not have to put up with the feelings anymore.
The tall red head adjusted slightly in his bed. For once, the Burrow was quiet. During the day, everything was all hustle and bustle, and no one could get a moments peace. At night, everyone could sleep and for once, get some rest. Everyone except Fred. No, during the night, Fred had a much bigger problem to deal with.
His mum was absolutely mad, and Fred wasn't sure whether or not he should hate her or thank her. Because who else would've come up with the brilliantly torturous plan on how to accommodate the lack of room in the house during the wedding. Who else would've thought to squeeze the twins together in one bed?
His twin lay innocently nestled against Fred's body, unaware that his sleeping position was absolutely teasing his brother, who had been lying awake next to him all night. These past few nights, Fred had studied his twin's sleeping habits, the way he curled up slightly against him, the way his mouth was always slightly agape. These past few nights could not have been worse for Mr. Fred Weasely.
The warmth of his body seeped through the sheets and grabbed Fred in such a mocking, seductive way. As his body itched to push close, to wrap around his twins, but his brain objected. No matter how many times it screamed the wrongness of his thoughts, it felt completely and utterly right.
A huge sigh escaped Fred's lips, and his thoughts were muffled by his own heartbeat in his ears, and could feel his twins heart, beating against his side. The rise and fall of George's chest left a puff of warm breath against Fred, and he began to feel dizzy.
Four more nights he thought. Their heartbeats were in sync. Four, four, four.
Four more nights, and he could go back to pretending these feelings didn't exist.