Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
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Talk a Little Less, Do a Little More
"What am I supposed to do?"
George Weasley looked up from his homework, looking exasperated. He set down his quill and parchment and turned his attention to his twin, who was now staring at him intently.
"What?" George asked as he adjusted himself in his seat.
"What should I do?" Fred repeated whining a little.
George just sighed. He had absolutely no idea what his brother was talking about, and it didn't seem like Fred had enough sense to know that he hadn't explained himself properly. Fred had gotten into the habit of starting conversations in his head and not including George until the middle of the conversation, usually blurting out some random question and then sitting there waiting for George to answer. Most of the time, these questions made no sense at all to George, and they annoyed him a great deal. George wasn't sure if Fred knew he did it or not. He assumed he didn't know, but hell he's known his brother the whole fifteen years they've been alive, and he still didn't know how his brain works. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Hello? Anyone home?" Fred asked tapping his brother on the head with his index finger.
George looked up, a little dazed, wondering how Fred had gotten across the room without him noticing.
"Are you going to answer my question?" Fred asked as he perched himself on the arm of the chair.
"Which one?" George followed his brother's movements before looking down at his hands.
"What am I supposed to do?" Fred asked for the third time that evening, now looking annoyed himself.
George threw his head back in annoyance, and then turned his gaze to his brother once more. "Honestly, Fred, I have no idea what you're talking about."
Fred gave him a curious look as if to say, 'How could you not know what I'm talking about?' before taking a deep breath. "Well, seeing as you weren't listening," Fred began, earning an eye roll from George, "I'll explain it again." Fred stopped suddenly just staring off into space, looking as if he had just gone brain dead.
"Yeah?" George said hoping that would wake Fred up.
"What? Oh yeah!" Fred exclaimed as George smacked his forehead with his palm. "Where was I? Oh right! You see it all started this morning: I walked past Ron and Hermione arguing, and I thought, 'They need to just go out all ready,' soooo I thought up a scheme. When I first thought it up, it sounded all right, but then it started to sound mean, so I was wondering if I should still do it or not," Fred paused for a second, taking another deep breath. "If it sounds mean, I should just forget about it right?"
"Fred?"
"But it was such a good scheme!"
"Fred?"
"And I might be the one to get them together."
"Fred!"
"What?" Fred finally looked at his twin only to have a hand clamped over his mouth.
"You talk way too much," George answered, loosening, but not releasing, his hold on Fred's mouth. "You need to stop talking and just do it." George released his brother and sat back in his seat.
Fred, George's advice still ringing in his ears, got back to his own thoughts. There was one thing that Fred had wanted to do for years, and he supposed he had talked too much about this one too. Okay, so he had never actually talked to anyone about it, but he had thought about it enough. He could hear George now, 'You need to stop thinking and just do it!' He supposed that was close enough to the actual advice to still hold true, and he also supposed that he was done thinking and was now ready for some action.
Fred stood up and walked over to the front of the chair, in front of George.
George, oblivious to his brother's movements, just sat there randomly scratching things out with his quill.
Fred knelt down, placing his hands on George's knees as he did so causing George to tense a little.
George set down his things and looked right at his brother, who was now eye-level with him.
'Just do it, just do it,' Fred kept thinking as his brother stared at him, curiosity showing in his eyes.
Fred hesitated a moment before taking his brother's advice. He leaned in a little too fast, his grip tightening a little too much on his brother's knees. George cried out in pain just before Fred's lips crashed into his. Fred almost landed directly on top of his brother, but managed to keep himself in a semi-standing position.
Eventually, Fred broke the kiss and looked at his brother, waiting for a reaction. George just sat there blinking at Fred, that confused expression still plastered on his face.
"I took your advice," Fred said, the silence finally getting to him.
George still just sat there not moving an inch.
"You hate me, don't you?" Fred asked, looking away from his brother, afraid of the answer.
When faced with silence once more, Fred looked back at his brother only to find that he was smiling.
Fred looked puzzled and relieved at the same time, and he just stood there waiting for his brother to say something.
"I could never hate you," George answered, his smile fading a little.
Fred looked at his brother again, a smile beginning to form on his lips. "I thought you did for a second," he began. "I mean, when you didn't say anything, I just," he was cut off by George, who had just flung his arms around his neck in a tight embrace. Fred adjusted himself a little so that he could fit his arms around his brother's waist.
"Again, you talk too much," George murmured into Fred's neck.
Fred laughed a little and tightened his hold on his brother, knowing that George had been right. He did talk too much.
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A/N: I know that I still need to work on chapter four for my other story, but I thought up this story earlier and I just had to write it down before I lost it. I just got the phrase "You talk too much," stuck in my head, and well, that's when this story was born.