Author: Sazmuffin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Title: Let Them Be

Ship: Harry/Fred

Rating: T


He doesn't mind the stares. I guess it's just because he's used to it; he's the Boy Who Lived. Everyone wants a peek at him, especially when he's seen boffing with a lad instead of a lass.

He spoke quietly with Ron outside of Madame Malkins, the overcast clouds reflecting in his glasses. He made Ron laugh and I could almost feel his smile. Harry was infectious; he made the world seem brighter, happier.

My long, gangly arms wrapped around his lean mid-section and I kissed his temple. Ron still wasn't completely comfortable with our relationship, but he was trying and I respected him for that. I kissed Harry softly and told them not to stop their conversation on my account.

As it turns out, they were talking about Hermione, who was inside the shop, trying on maternity robes. The witch was three months pregnant with Ron's sons; she was having triplets. I smirked silently, for I always knew that one day Hermione would fall to Ron's idiotic charms.

My mind fled to the night before, sending chills down my spine and the familiar ache in my unfurled toes. Harry was such a magnificent lover, but such an evil tease. He made everything curl with pleasure; my toes, my fingers. Sometimes I tell him that the only reason the Sorting Hat thought he might've done well in Slytherin was because it sensed his uncanny ability to turn anyone on with a smile and suggestive comments.

I remember how he captured me, not too long ago. He knew of my sexuality; I had made it known about three months before to my entire family. It's not false that the wizarding community is more accepting than that of the muggle community; even George welcomed me with open arms, although I suspected he always knew.

Ever since then, those little touches, those barely audible innuendos was enough to leave me hard for hours. There had been many a night where the closest I got to making love to Harry was pretending my hand was his and he was the one whispering naughty things into my ear.

It had been one exciting day, no doubt about that. Ron and Hermione had pronounced their pregnancy, and I was feeling particularly down. I retreated to my spot, my safe haven, if you will, to think. I sat on the cool grass of Mum's garden, the sweet scent of azaleas wafting into my nose. I stared up at the retreating sky, slowly replacing itself with a spilled canvas of color. I breathed in counts, closing my eyes and letting my senses expand.

There it was, that determined stride, making it's way towards me. I knew it by heart. I had heard it trudge up the stairs many a time throughout my childhood. He put his hand on my knee, which was pulled close to my chest. The hand traveled up and over my neck, onto my face, and into my ginger hair. I relaxed my knees so that they slumped forward, a silent invitation to come closer.

Even if I hadn't felt the warmth of his body against mine, I would have known that his eyes were mere inches from mine. I guess he wasn't expecting me to open mine, because he jumped slightly when I did. I held his gaze firmly, daring him to close this treacherous gap. My large hand cupped his cheek perfectly, gently rubbing his skin. I felt a strong palm against my chest, and he dipped his head closer to mine. I knew not to make a move; I knew to let him have the pleasure of initiating our relationship. But to be honest, the suspense was killing me and if he didn't do it soon, I would've done it one way or another.

He mumbled something that only I could differentiate as my name, and our lips collided for a nano second. His lips were so soft, so delicate as he kissed me. He barely opened his mouth; he was nervous. I smiled against his lips and swept my other hand up his neck and into his infamous black hair, gripping the soft follicles. I titled his neck back and gently opened his mouth, feeling his breath catch. I suckled on his lower lip, teasing his tongue to come forward.

In a few moments, he got the hang of it. I already knew it was an expert at snogging, he had just never snogged with a bloke before. I leaned back and guided him on top of me, letting him take full control of our first embrace. His small hands gripped my shirt as his tongue battered at my own. I smoothed my hands down his back and squeezed his bum lightly, chuckling into the kiss. I couldn't help myself; he had a really nice bum.

He stopped kissing me only to take off his glasses, allowing me more access. In a flash, I flipped him under me and smiled down into his surprised eyes. I pecked his lips before preceding to suckle and bite at his tender neck, applauding the pleasured moans coming from him. I stopped and looked down at him, trying to hide my smile.

So what does this mean, I asked. What does it look like?, came his smug reply. All right, if that's how you want to play, I lowered my face to his, looking into his green eyes. One hand supporting me, I brought one down to his arousal, and gently stroked him through his trousers. I bit at his neck and smiled at his tortured gasp.

Fred, his voice came up raspy. Yes?, I looked back into his eyes. Do you want this, he paused for a moment, us?, he asked, his voice small. More than anything, I replied.

That night, we walked back into the Burrow, hand in hand.

A poke to the ribs brought me back from my memories, and I felt Harry's arms encircle around my waist.

I asked him where Ron went, he said he went inside to see Hermione. His eyes were level with mine as we kissed, my hands caressing his hair.

What were you thinking about, he asked. About how you seduced me, I replied, smirking. He wrinkled his nose and made a face at me, even though he knew it was true. He pushed me up against the store windows and rested his head on my shoulder. My hands linked together around his waist, stopping to twist the gold engagement band around my finger.

My ears perked up as I heard the door to the shop open, as Hermione and Ron emerged from the store. I saw Ron had started towards us, but Hermione put her hand on his arm lightly, and whispered, Let them be.