Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Worst George Weasley CrossOver Plus Anime ❯ Phone Call Edited ( Chapter 4 )

Part Two of the Worst Anime Cross-Over Plus Harry Potter George Weasley.

 

George and Fletcher: The Phone Call

 

George dug through his dirty laundry, checking pockets and sorting, or sorting to a man's standards. Which means he had piles labeled `kind of dirty' `grimy dirty' and `I don't want to know dirty'. The last pile was his favorite. As he finished up his pocket search, several wrappers fell out along with a pen and crumpled piece of paper. Curious, George picked it up and laid it flat.

 

“Huh? Which random night was this?” He studied the name for a moment, tilting his head to the side, `Fletcher'.

 

“Why does that sound familiar?” Checking the pants to make sure they were his and not his twin's, George scrunched his nose. “Oi! Fred!”

 

Fred stomped up the stairs, carrying his own laundry basket. He had a similar method of sorting clothes, but only brought `grimy' and `I don't want to know' with him. “What?”

 

George held out the strange number. “This yours?”

 

Fred snatched it, looking at the number for a moment. “Sorry, that's a bloke's name.” He handed it back with a shrug.

 

George glanced at it again. “When was the last time I wore these jeans?” He thought out loud.

 

“What kind of candy wrapper is that?” Fred said, noticing the other side was blue.

 

George blinked, remembering the blonde haired boy. “Oh yeah! It was the erection stuff…I wore these to that muggle game show.”

 

Fred chuckled, shaking his head. “You gave some poor lad an erection pill, got his number, and then forgot to call him!”

 

“Yeah, that's about right.” George nodded. “You think he'd slam the phone down if I tried calling him?”

 

Fred snorted, dumping his laundry on the ground. “Yeah.”

 

George shrugged. “I'll try anyway. Who can deny our cuteness?” He left his laundry and hopped down the stairs. Reaching the living room, he pulled out the phone from the cupboard. It's an old rotary thing that they keep hidden from their wizardy friends.

 

George spins the numbers, dialing up Fletcher.

 

“What?” A voice says much older than the one George remembered.

 

George grinned. So Fletcher had a bit of a sleep over…

 

“Hey sexy voice, is Fletcher in?”

 

The voice on the other line coughed and yelled. “Excuse me? I won't let you speak to my brother without a name, you creepy prick.”

 

“Oh. Brother. I see…” George said, unsure what to say.

 

“I need that name.” There's an edge to the voice now.

 

“George.”

 

There's shouting in the back ground. George could hear Fletcher's reply.

 

“No need to yell, Russell.” He picked up the phone and answered with a smile in his voice. “Hello?”

 

“Heeeey, Fletcher. How are you, Fletcher?” George said, leaning against the counter.

 

“Um...” The voice rung a bell, but at the moment, Fletcher couldn't place it. “I'm not sure who this is…”

 

“Aw, break a man's heart-,” George said, hoping Fletcher would catch the hint.

 

Fletcher jumped and squeaked, turning red. “You're the guy from the game show!”

 

George chuckled. “You can call me George.”

 

Fletcher nodded, squeaking a bit. “So…um…” He gulped and sat on the edge of a chair, his legs jittery. “You're not going to send me more candy, are you?”

 

George shook his head, a grin on his face. “Nah, not this time, Fletcher. I was thinking of a date this time.”

 

Silence.

 

More silence.

 

George cleared his throat. “Is that a no? Or did I break the phone again?”

 

Fletcher squeaked out an answer. “No.”

 

“No? Ouch. Do you like teasing me, Fletcher?” George said, still grinning.

 

“What?” Fletcher blinked. “Ah! No! I didn't mean it that way. I meant you didn't break the phone.” His cheeks burned red, his ears pink.

 

“So, what is the answer then, Fletcher?” George asked, enjoying torturing the poor boy.

 

Fletcher squeaked. “Uh…yeah.”

 

“Are you just giving in? You really know how to pull at a man's heartstrings, Fletcher.” George said, laying the guilt on thick.

 

“No! It's a yes! I want to go!” Fletcher cried. “Erm…”

 

A voice in the background hollered. “Go where? Fletcher, is that prick your boyfriend?”

 

“No! It's only a date!” Fletcher cried embarrassed.

 

“Aw, Fletcher. What if it turns into more?” George said, holding back laughter quite well.

 

Fletcher squeaked. “I dunno…”

 

George finally let out a laugh. “I'll pick you up tomorrow around seven.”

 

“O…k….” Fletcher said his heart skipping.

 

“Bye, Fletcher.”

 

“B-bye, George.”

 

Silence, then Fletcher received the dial tone. He set the receiver down, still blushing.

 

“What the hell!” Russell shouted, standing there the whole time. “He called me sexy! That prick can't be trusted!”

 

Fletcher shook his head. “It's not like we're serious, Russell. I've only met him once. Just…Just a d-date.” He sounded as though he's trying to convince himself.

 

Tomorrow comes quicker than Fletcher anticipated. He spent the majority of his time convincing Russell that nothing was going to happen and that if George did try `something', he would leave. But that's just what he told Russell. If George were to, let's say, hold his hand or even kiss him, Fletcher wouldn't mind.

 

The rest of his time till seven was spent running around the house, trying to find something to wear, whether he should eat or not, and if he should leave his favorite hat at home.

 

George rolled out of bed around 11 o'clock. Fred thumped on the door once and shouted.

 

“Hey lazy arse. Don't you have a date tonight?”

 

George grumbled. “Five more minutes!”

 

“That only works on cute girls and little kids. Get up!” Fred stomped down the stairs to the kitchen.

 

George sighed and stretched, scratching his stomach. He wandered over to his wardrobe and pulled out clothes. Random pieces of junk fell to the floor such as candy, a frog, a rubber chicken, dirty socks, underwear, and a padded bra.

 

George shoved on a pair of jeans, a white T, and a bright Hawaiian over-shirt that he left unbuttoned. He hopped down the stairs, two at a time and walked into the kitchen. “Maid! Fry me up some eggs!”

 

Fred threw a towel at George's head. “Next time I'll throw a knife!” He sayed, buttering toast. “Make your own eggs, git.”

 

George laughed and toasted some bread.

 

“So, what are you doing tonight anyway?” Fred asked, taking a bite.

 

George shrugged. “No idea.”

 

Fred laughed, spitting crumbs everywhere.

 

“I'll think of something.”

 

*Later that night, ten minutes past seven.*

 

Fletcher fidgeted on the edge of the couch, glancing at the clock above the fire place. He pulled at the flaps of his hat. Where was he?

 

Russell came in and checked the clock, crossing his arms. “The prick's late. You're not going.”

 

Fletcher opened his mouth to protest when the door bell rang. “It's him!”

 

Russell narrowed his eyes and went to the door.

 

“It's the police! Open up.”

 

Russell paused and glanced over at Fletcher, who remained silent.

 

“I'm kidding!” George said with a laugh.

 

Fletcher jumped up and flew to the door, wrenching it open, blushing but smiling. Russell crossed his arms, unimpressed.

 

“Miss me much, Fletcher?” George said with a grin. Glancing over at Russell, he noted that the older brother looked like he would be trouble.

 

Fletcher blushed and looked away. He squeaked something, but it sounded neither like a yes nor a no.

 

George chuckled. “You must be the older brother I spoke to on the phone yesterday. I'm George.” He held out his hand.

 

Russell eyed him a moment, glancing at Fletcher, who watched while biting his lip nervously. Snorting, Russell took George's hand and shook it firmly.

 

George returned the hard hand shake then took his hand back and smiled at Fletcher. “Ready?”

 

“When can I expect him home?” Russell interrupted.

 

“Home?” George asked, tilting his head. “Who said anything about-,” Seeing the serious look on Russell's face, and the worry on Fletcher's, he stopped himself. “Joking. Just joking. He'll be home before…midnight?”

 

“Before? That means none of this five minute late crap.” Russell said with his arms crossed.

 

“Oh in that case, around midnight,” George said with a sly grin.

 

Russell frowned, still unimpressed.

 

Fletcher squeaked. “He's kidding, Russell. Let's go.” He grabbed a jacket and ran out the door.

 

George laughed and followed him down the trail. Russell slammed the door shut and collapsed in a chair, scratching his head. This is going to be a long night.

 

They started down the sidewalk. Fletcher looked every which way, except at George. George stuffed his hands in his pockets.

 

“Um,” Fletcher squeaked.

 

George looked over at him. “Yes, Fletcher?”

 

“W-where are we going?”

 

George thought a moment. What was it that Fred called it? “The movies.”

 

Fletcher nodded then sighed. If they were in a dark theatre, George couldn't see him blush. At the same time, no one would notice if George `tried something'. He wouldn't…would he?

 

They reached the theatre, where George paid for two tickets, never consulting Fletcher about which movie to watch. He handed both slips of paper to Fletcher and walked toward the concession stand. Fletcher hurried behind him.

 

“What do you want to eat?” George asked, leaving out `besides me'.

 

“Um…” Fletcher looked at all the candy, the popcorn machine and the soda fountain, but all he could think of was the last time George offered him candy. That incident ended badly. “I'm-I'm fine.”

 

“Are you sure, Fletcher? I can buy anything you like,” George said rather sweetly.

 

Fletcher squeaked a bit, causing George to giggle. “Aw, Fletcher, I love it when you squeak!” He wrapped his arms around Fletcher's shoulders and squeezed him tight.

 

Fletcher turned red. The girl tending to them piped up, pointing to the menu.

 

“Um, excuse me. We have special combo meals. If you order them, it's a bit cheaper,” she said with a smile.

 

George smiled back. “Thanks miss pink hair!” He released Fletcher and batted his eyes. “So honey buns, what do you want?”

 

Fletcher's mouth opened and closed several times, his brain unable to process what George was doing. The pet names, the hug that nearly suffocated him and now the googly eyes were driving him mad. “Erm…”

 

George smiled. “Anything at all, doll!” He stole Fletcher's hat and placed it on his own head.

 

“D-did you just call me doll?” Fletcher asked his ears burning red.

 

A tall man walked over next to Himeno and smiled. “Do you need any help? I know the first day can be rough.”

 

She shook her head. “Nope. These two are still deciding what they want. Thanks, Goh.”

 

George nodded, grinning. “Now, if you don't choose, you'll have to live with the candy I brought.” He winked. “I know how much you love my candy.”

 

Fletcher nearly choked on air. “No! No! I'll take a popcorn and soda! No candy! Please, no candy!”

 

Goh and Himeno watched silently as George flirted shamelessly with Fletcher. They weren't sure what to say, or if they should say anything at all. Himeno felt sorry for the blond and Goh wanted to disappear.

 

George put his arm around Fletcher's waist and pulled him close. “Now why didn't you say that the first time, silly little goose?” Looking at Himeno, he said, “We'll take one large popcorn and a large soda.” He winked at Fletcher. “Anything else, pudding pop?”

 

“E-extra butter.” Fletcher said, avoiding George's gaze. George was no longer a god to him. He was a devil, a trickster, anything but the god he had met two months ago.

 

The concession stand worker prepared their order and George paid; he even carried the popcorn and soda. They walked over to the ticket-taker where George nearly revealed his movie-going virginity.

 

“Excuse me sir, I need to see your ticket.” The ticket taker said, looking at George suspiciously.

 

Fletcher saved the day though, remembering he had both tickets. “Sorry, I have them.” He gave them to the ticket taker who pointed them to the correct theatre. “Thanks!” He joined George and headed into the theatre.

 

Fletcher led them up the stairs to an empty aisle of seats. It just so happened to be the last row.

 

George set the drink down and stuffed two straws in the lid, resting the popcorn in Fletcher's lap.

 

Just as it was becoming awkward, a rowdy couple entered the row in front of them. A tall man carried two drinks and a short boy, wearing a hat and long coat, brought the popcorn.

 

“Ritsuka-love, shall we sit here?” Asked the tall, sandy-haired man.

 

“Stop saying that! Just sit!” The boy called Ritsuka shouted. He flopped down in a seat, sending popcorn everywhere.

 

George leaned forward, his face in between the couple. “Shh!” He said, pressing his finger to his lips. “We're in a movie theatre.”

 

Ritsuka frowned. “Talk to Soubi, he's the one doing it!”

 

Soubi smiled. “If you want me to be quit, order me to. Say `Be quite.'”

 

George's eyes widen. “S&M, eh?” He shrugged and smiled. “Whatever floats the boat, as I always say.”

 

Ritsuka blushed scarlet and didn't speak again. Soubi laughed lightly, wrapping an arm around Ritsuka's shoulders.

 

Fletcher looked around the room, trying to figure out how he got in this situation. He was sitting here with this god-turned-demon-ish person who was just talking about S&M with random people. He sighed and closed his eyes.

 

George glanced over at Fletcher; Soubi had just given him a great idea. He lifted the arm rest in between him and Fletcher and curled up in his own seat, resting his head on Fletcher's shoulder.

 

Fletcher sat straight, surprised at this. “What are you doing!?” He squeaked loudly.

 

Two faces appeared above the seats in front of them. Soubi nodded knowingly. Ritsuka tilted his head to the side sympathetically, feeling bad for Fletcher.

 

Soubi leaned toward Ritsuka, his lips brushing against Ritsuka's ear. “I love you.”

 

Ritsuka jumped back. “Ugh! Stop!” He yelled, turning around and crossing his arms, moping. “I'm not talking to you for the rest of the movie.”

 

Soubi sat down and patted Ritsuka's leg. “As you wish.”

 

“Aww, how cute!” George said with a smile.

 

Fletcher looked shocked and tried to ignore the couple ahead of them. The previews start, finally giving Fletcher something to look at. Although, having George curled up next to him was quite distracting.

 

“Could you um…not…do that?” Fletcher said, looking down at George from the corner of his eye.

 

“Do what?” George asked, clinging to Fletcher's arm. He glanced down and his lips formed an `O'. “That?” He let go and sat in his own seat, beginning to pout.

 

George, determined to stay close to Fletcher, reached for a handful of popcorn. The popcorn just so happened to be in Fletcher's lap. Pretending not to pay attention, George missed the popcorn and grabbed Fletcher's crotch.

 

Eyes wide, Fletcher screamed. “Oh my god, what the hell!” The popcorn was sent sailing over the row in front, landing on Ritsuka's head.

 

Soubi laughed, taking a piece of popcorn from Ritsuka's lap and popping into his mouth. Ritsuka threw the bucket off his hat and stood up to brush the rest off.

 

“Aw, I was eating that, Ritsuka-love.”

 

Ritsuka glared and threw himself in the seat, pissed.

 

Several people hissed, a few verbally asking Fletcher to be quite. He turned red and sunk into his seat. The beginning of the movie was totally and completely ruined now.

 

After several attempts at cuddling throughout the movie, George finally managed to get his arm around Fletcher's shoulders without Fletcher complaining. It was actually pretty nice.

 

Out of nowhere, George cried. “Oh my gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawd! Bumblebee noooo!!”

 

Ritsuka, Soubi, and Fletcher all turned to stare. Soubi shook his head and sat back down, pulling on Ritsuka's arm to make him sit as well.

 

Fletcher smiled and pulled the hat over George's eyes. “When it gets scary, just cover your eyes with my hat.”

 

George smiled back, pulling the hat off his eyes. “I'll remember that. Thanks, Fletcher.”

 

*The movie ends!*

 

George followed Soubi and Ritsuka out, Fletcher trailed behind George. Soubi stopped at the exit, smiling at George.

 

“Well, it was nice meeting you.” Soubi said with a smile, attempting to wrap his arm around Ritsuka's waist. Ritsuka pulled away, but Soubi tried again and again, till Ritsuka gave in.

 

George nodded. “Yes, it was.” He said, placing a hand on the small of Fletcher's back to get him to move along.

 

Fletcher squeaked.

 

“Soubi, let's go!” Ritsuka demanded, storming through the exit.

 

“As you wish.” Soubi said with a smile, following Ritsuka.

 

George and Fletcher left as well. Somewhere along the way to Fletcher's, George's hand had linked with Fletcher's. As they walked along the trail, this finally dawned on Fletcher. He blushed and blinked, wondering if this was okay. It is our first date…it's not like we're kissing or anything…but…is it…right?

 

As they reached the front door, George glanced down, still wearing that green hat, and noticed how uneasy Fletcher seemed.

 

Fletcher gazed at the ground, not sure what to do with himself. Were they supposed to kiss? Just a goodbye…aw, but that seemed disappointing.

 

George stood in front of Fletcher, squeezing his hand as his free one reached up and took off the hat, placing back on Fletcher. Leaning in, he spoke softly. “It looks better on you.” His lips brushed against Fletcher's lips, kissing him lightly then he pulled away.

 

Fletcher's cheeks turned bright red and he squeaked a little. The kiss was over way too soon…

 

“I'll call you sooner this time. Bye Fletcher.” He smiled and walked down the trail, disappearing behind a tree.

 

Fletcher blinked. “Huh? Where'd he go so fast?” Suddenly, the trail is washed in light.

 

Russell cleared his throat. “Did you have fun?” He stepped out of the way to let Fletcher in.

 

Fletcher merely nodded. He dropped his coat and hat on the couch, wandering off to his room.

 

Russell sighed and glanced over at the clock. 11:32; the prick had him home before midnight.

 

Zee End.