HI guys. You know the drill. I don't own the Harry Potter crew, much less Fred and George, even though I would love to...but alas, i don't! So dont' sue me, cuz I don't have anything you'd want anyway!!
Enjoy!
---------
The twins were disappointed.
"Honestly. You'd think mum could keep our favorite COLORS straight!" Fred grumbled to his twin brother as they went to put their things away in their bedroom. George sighed.
"This looks like puke. LOOK AT IT." George held up the yellowish green sweater – which happened to be Fred's favorite color. Mustard yellow, he called it.
"Mine only looks like someone bled to death on it." Fred remarked, holding crimson red sweater.
"I'll have you know, dark red looks absolutely DASHING on us." George scoffed. He liked the dark reds better, compared to the mess of a color HE got.
"Now, George, I've seen you in the dark colors. I think they make you look pudgy." Fred stuck out his tongue and pushed the door to their room open. George nearly tripped over the bedspreads as they walked in.
"Fred, would you clean up after yourself?"
"Hey! I know how to wipe my own butt!" Fred said crossly, tucking away his gloves into a drawer full of mittens and scarves and what have you. He then turned to his twin, smirking. "But would you like to check?"
George stood there, a bit dumbfounded. However, within a few seconds, he collected himself and replied with a curt, "Is that an invitation?" as he tucked his things away, tossing the ugly sweater on his bed.
"Come to think of it, no, not really. My bum's too nice for your eyes to feast upon, dear brother." Fred joked, flopping down on top of the mustard yellow sweater. "You know, if you don't want it, I can have it."
"I'm way bigger than you."
"In which department? We're twins, mate, we're the same size! Unless you're talking about the you-know-what…"
"FRED!" George said exasperatedly, shaking his head. "Take the bloody sweater!"
"You're cute when you get mad, Georgie!" Fred said in a sing-song voice, cuddling up to the yellow sweater. "In return, you can have the red one I got!"
George grumbled something incoherent.
"Geooooorge, don't be angry at me!" Fred pulled George onto his lap. "Now tell Santa what you wanted for Christmas!"
"…the season's over, 'Santa'. Shouldn't you be…oh, I don't know, dieting?" George wriggled his way out of Fred's lap, only to be met with his twin brother's pout right in front of his nose.
"You just said you were bigger than me." Fred said pointedly, poking George's nose with his own. George flinched.
"You know I'm the better man."
Fred raised an eyebrow. "How am I supposed to know?"
"I think that girl you always play with outside is getting to your head." George mumbled, trying to get out of his brother's reach, but Fred only pounced on top of George.
Then, without mercy, Fred began to tickle George, who started to howl like a maniac.
"F-Fred! S-stop it! HAHAHA, no, STOP, AHAHAHA, STOP!!!!!!!" George laughed hysterically, tears forming in his eyes.
"Who's the better man?" Fred asked, tickling George's sides.
"For God's sake, YOU ARE, STOP!" George barely got the sentence out, laughing so hard it looked like as if he was having a seizure.
"Of course I am!" Fred beamed and gave his twin a bright smile. He noticed a tear working its way down the freckled cheek of his brother, and he lowered his head to kiss it away.
"Merry Christmas, chum. Now come on, Christmas lunch is almost ready!" Fred said, pushing himself off the bed, and dragged George back downstairs to rejoin their family.
Enjoy!
---------
The twins were disappointed.
"Honestly. You'd think mum could keep our favorite COLORS straight!" Fred grumbled to his twin brother as they went to put their things away in their bedroom. George sighed.
"This looks like puke. LOOK AT IT." George held up the yellowish green sweater – which happened to be Fred's favorite color. Mustard yellow, he called it.
"Mine only looks like someone bled to death on it." Fred remarked, holding crimson red sweater.
"I'll have you know, dark red looks absolutely DASHING on us." George scoffed. He liked the dark reds better, compared to the mess of a color HE got.
"Now, George, I've seen you in the dark colors. I think they make you look pudgy." Fred stuck out his tongue and pushed the door to their room open. George nearly tripped over the bedspreads as they walked in.
"Fred, would you clean up after yourself?"
"Hey! I know how to wipe my own butt!" Fred said crossly, tucking away his gloves into a drawer full of mittens and scarves and what have you. He then turned to his twin, smirking. "But would you like to check?"
George stood there, a bit dumbfounded. However, within a few seconds, he collected himself and replied with a curt, "Is that an invitation?" as he tucked his things away, tossing the ugly sweater on his bed.
"Come to think of it, no, not really. My bum's too nice for your eyes to feast upon, dear brother." Fred joked, flopping down on top of the mustard yellow sweater. "You know, if you don't want it, I can have it."
"I'm way bigger than you."
"In which department? We're twins, mate, we're the same size! Unless you're talking about the you-know-what…"
"FRED!" George said exasperatedly, shaking his head. "Take the bloody sweater!"
"You're cute when you get mad, Georgie!" Fred said in a sing-song voice, cuddling up to the yellow sweater. "In return, you can have the red one I got!"
George grumbled something incoherent.
"Geooooorge, don't be angry at me!" Fred pulled George onto his lap. "Now tell Santa what you wanted for Christmas!"
"…the season's over, 'Santa'. Shouldn't you be…oh, I don't know, dieting?" George wriggled his way out of Fred's lap, only to be met with his twin brother's pout right in front of his nose.
"You just said you were bigger than me." Fred said pointedly, poking George's nose with his own. George flinched.
"You know I'm the better man."
Fred raised an eyebrow. "How am I supposed to know?"
"I think that girl you always play with outside is getting to your head." George mumbled, trying to get out of his brother's reach, but Fred only pounced on top of George.
Then, without mercy, Fred began to tickle George, who started to howl like a maniac.
"F-Fred! S-stop it! HAHAHA, no, STOP, AHAHAHA, STOP!!!!!!!" George laughed hysterically, tears forming in his eyes.
"Who's the better man?" Fred asked, tickling George's sides.
"For God's sake, YOU ARE, STOP!" George barely got the sentence out, laughing so hard it looked like as if he was having a seizure.
"Of course I am!" Fred beamed and gave his twin a bright smile. He noticed a tear working its way down the freckled cheek of his brother, and he lowered his head to kiss it away.
"Merry Christmas, chum. Now come on, Christmas lunch is almost ready!" Fred said, pushing himself off the bed, and dragged George back downstairs to rejoin their family.