Oliver Wood traipsed into the Weasley's kitchen, and spotted the short red-headed girl sitting at the table.
"Good morning, Ginny."
She looked up from her porridge, and smiled, "Evening, Oliver. I have great news."
Oliver stopped his mission for the stairs, and looked at Ginny, eyebrows raised. Good news from the twin's favorite sibling might not be too good, after all.
He walked back to the table, and grabbed a roll sitting in the basket. "Well, mum and Ron aren't home."
Oliver's eyebrows disappeared beneath his bangs, "And?"
"Nor is George."
Ginny was oddly pleased to see Oliver's usual pale face turn tomato red.
"Oh, uh, where have they gotten off to?" Oliver questioned, his mouth full of bread.
"Mum said she was going to go shopping, and with dad's new raise, she's going to be gone for quite some time. She decided to drag Ron with her. She said she might stay the night with a friend. George got sent off to Gran's."
Oliver tilted his head to the side, "What for?"
"Apparently, she wants some bonding time, but honestly? I think she's getting revenge for that dung bomb," Ginny sniggered.
The sandy-haired boy thought back, and eventually remembered Fred telling him about it. "Wasn't Fred involved, too?"
She smirked, "That's the best part. Fred managed to convince her that he wasn't there, that it was all George."
He made a face, "George can't be too happy about that."
She cackled, "We've received nine Howlers, and counting."
Oliver smiled lightly, "Alright then, I'm going upstairs."
She gave him a menacing smile and said in a sing-song voice, "Have fun~!"
He rolled his eyes and started for the stairs again.
"Oh, and Oliver?"
He turned back to the younger girl, "Yeah?"
"I'm going over to Luna's, so you and Fred will have the house to yourself. Don't destroy too much, alright?"
Ginny was out the door before the roll left Oliver's hand.
Still blushing, Oliver made his way upstairs to his best friend's bedroom. He knocked once, but assumed the red-headed night owl was fast asleep.
He was correct in his assumption.
Oliver opened the door to find Fred fast asleep, clutching his pillow close.
He walked toward Fred's bed, and nudged him lightly.
Scowling, he tried again.
Oliver took a seat on the side of the bed, and lowered his head to the sleeping twin's ear.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty. Wakey, wakey. Come on, wake up."
He retracted back, but became frustrated by the lack of reaction.
He tried again, "We have the house all to ourselves, you know..."
"To ourselves, you say?"
That did the trick.
Oliver lifted his head, and was delighted to see the sea green eyes he loved so much.
"Where is everyone?" Fred asked, allowing his curiosity to take over his lust.
"Arthur's at work, Molly went shopping with Ron, and Ginny went to Luna's."
Fred grinned, "Sounds...Convenient."
Oliver couldn't help but smile when Fred's lips pressed onto his own.
Before the kiss could intensify, Oliver broke it. "Your breath is horrible, go brush, please."
Fred pouted, but rolled off the older boy. He skipped into the connected bathroom, and changed clothes.
As he brushed his teeth, he asked, "Did Ginny tell you about George?"
Oliver nodded, and played with the colored cube that was laying on Fred's bedside table.
"Hello, Oliver?" Fred called.
Oliver rolled his eyes at himself, realizing that Fred couldn't see him.
"Sorry. Yeah, she did. You know you're in for hell when he gets back, right?"
The demented twin chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
Fred come back into the room, and collapsed onto the bed with Oliver.
Oliver ran his fingers through the famous red hair, and sighed contently.
"This is the first time we've been alone in ages," he muttered.
Fred nodded, and snuggled closer to him, "Ever since mom caught us that one night...She hasn't let us alone is forever."
"I don't remember everything. Tell me what happened when I was asleep."
Fred entered the Wood's residence, searching frantically for his Scottish friend. He hadn't seen him all day.
He rushed into the sitting room, and found him unconsciece. He quickly recognized George's Firewhisky-candy box resting on his stomach. Fred's brain ran into over drive, having no idea how to handle this situation.
He hesitantly inched closer, and found himself seated next to the sleeping boy.
"Erm, Oliver?" he nudged him, but nothing worked.
In a moment's panic, Fred resorted to shaking his friend out of his drunken stupor. The box of candies fell to the floor.
Oliver's eyes fluttered open, and his hands flew to his shoulders, trying to pry the Weasley twin off of him.
Fred stopped, and relief flooded him as confused hazel eyes gazed back at him.
"Oh, Oliver, I was so worried," Fred said, latching onto his best friend.
"What's wrong?" Oliver slurred.
Fred detached himself, and looked up at him in horror. He looked back down at the fallen box, and saw only two sweets remained.
His best friend was drunk.
"You know," Oliver said, taking a hold Fred's chin, a sly grin plastered to his face, "I've never realized how pretty you are."
Fred shook his head, not exactly certain how to react. But before he could make up his mind, Oliver's lips crashed onto his. His brain froze.
Fred finally came to his senses when his own hands began weave through Oliver's short hair. By this time, his back was against the couch, and his former Quidditch captain was on top of him.
Fred gave a small moan as Oliver started on his neck, but continued trying to maintain all brain power.
This has to stop, he told himself.
Undeniably, he had wanted this for a very long, but not like this.
In his fantasies, Oliver wasn't drunk. Oliver was fully aware of his actions, unlike now.
"Fred, dear?"
Fred's eyes widened, and his heart seemed to stop, but Oliver continued his attack on Fred's neck.
His mother entered into the living room, "I saw you running here, and I was worried something was-Oh!"
Fred and his mother stared wide-eyed at one another, but Oliver was completely oblivious.
"He's, erm, he's drunk, mother. Honestly, no lie!"
Mrs. Weasley nodded, shaken, deciding that it would be a good idea to believe her son.
"Alright, get him home. Our home. He can stay the night, since his parents won't be home," Mrs. Weasley said before exiting the house.
Fred nodded, and realized that Oliver was now trying to unbutton Fred's pants.
"Woah there, boy. Stop."
Oliver looked up, puzzled.
"We're going to take this to my house, okay?"
Oliver eagerly jumped off Fred, but swayed on the spot.
Before he could fall, Fred was supporting him.
They ventured back to the Burrow without a problem, and he was delighted to see the kitchen was deserted. He lifted Oliver upstairs, and finally reached his bedroom. He kicked open the door, and dropped Oliver on his bed.
"Are we going to continue?" Oliver asked.
Fred sat down next to him, and petted his hair like a child.
"No Oliver, you need sleep, alright? Go to sleep, and I promise, we'll continue tomorrow."
Oliver frowned in disappointment, and rested himself on Fred's bed, his hand still intertwined with the twin's.
George raised an eyebrow at his brother, not sure what to say.
"Your Firewhisky filled candies, George."
George's eyes narrowed, "Oh. I, uh, well...What happened?"
Fred sighed, and looked back at the now sleeping boy.
"Well, I hadn't seen at all today, so I was kind of worried, you know? So I ran over to his house, and found him passed out with your candies in his lap. I woke up him up, and he told me he never realized how pretty I was."
"Oh, gross, we're twins," George cringed, but recoiled at his brother's glare.
"Then he...Well, he kind of sexually attacked me."
George stared at him, panicked, "He raped you?"
Fred shook his head violently, "No! He just snogged me, a lot. Besides," Fred blushed.
His twin cocked an eyebrow, "Besides...?"
"You can't rape the willing," Fred said in a small voice.
It took a moment for it to dawn on George, "Oh my god!"
Fred panicked, "Shhh!"
George began to pace around the room,
"How long?" George asked, his voice strained.
"How long have I been gay, or how long have I been gay for Oliver Wood?"
George shook his head, "The second one."
Fred bit his lip, trying to recall, "Since our third year, I think?"
"Oh my god!" George said again, "and I've never noticed?"
Fred shrugged, "I guess not,"
George stopped pacing, "This explains why you blushed every time some one called him our Quidditch master."
Fred bit back his blush, remembering all the sick fantasies that went through his head about his captain.
George continued, "It also explains why you never seemed as joyous when Lee and I checked out girls in the pub."
Fred flushed, remembering those days. Always in denial about his own sexuality...
This time, George completely froze.
After a moment, Fred threw a pillow at him, "What?"
George turned his eyes on his brother, "The candies just had alcohol in them, that's it. No magic, or anything."
Fred raised an eyebrow, "So?"
George threw his hands in the air, "So! You know what they say!"
Fred gave his twin an agitated face, "Obviously not. Enlighten me."
"The truth comes out when you're drunk."
Fred finished his recalling of the memory, and Oliver burst into laughter.
"Did you actually blush when people called me your Quidditch master?!"
Fred scoffed, "Shut up. I'm not the one trying to get you out of your pants."
Oliver stopped laughing, and leaned back against the pillow, "George was right, though. The truth does come out when you're drunk."
Fred laughed, "That next morning was so awkward."
He laughed, too, "I remembered every single thing I was awake for."
"Oh, so you do remember trying to get me out of my pants?" Fred inquired.
Oliver chuckled, "Mhm. I remember your mom walking in on us, too. Even though I was..."
"Completely hypnotized by my amazing sensual skills?"
Oliver rolled his eyes, "I seem to recall that it was I doing all the work, and you doing all the moaning."
Fred glared, and Oliver smirked, "Some things never change."
It was Fred's turn to scoff, "Whatever. I'm pretty sure that was our last time to ever get a chance to do that. Now mom is...Well, you know."
Oliver sighed, "She sure did hate me after that. I wonder why?"
Fred fell silent, guilt scratching at his throat.
"What?" Oliver questioned, his boyfriend was making an odd face.
Fred started awkwardly, "Well, you see...We never actually told her you were drunk from George's candies."
Oliver was outraged, "So your mother thinks I'm a drunk?!"
Fred nodded meekly, "Yeah."
"We could have been alone for months! Why haven't you told her the truth?!"
Fred looked away, "If we were to tell her at that time, she would have made us destroy them. But now that they proved to be one of our lesser inventions, I'll tell her the truth."
"Why didn't you tell her before?"
Fred blushed, "Honestly? One of my Hogwarts fantasies was to meet at night with you, keeping it a complete secret. Apart from George knowing, I was living one of my fantasies."
Oliver gave him a sharp jab in the side, "You will tell Molly when she gets home. Okay?"
Fred decided it was best to comply, "Alright, but until then..."
"Yeah?"
"Wanna go have sex on Ron's bed?"
