Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Worst George Weasley CrossOver Plus Anime ❯ Restaurant Edited ( Chapter 6 )

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

 

George and Fletcher: Chinese Restaurant

 

“Where are the clean socks?” George asked, rummaging through the bottom drawer of Fred's wardrobe.

 

“Once again, I'm not the maid. Find your own bloody socks,” Fred said, going over an inventory list. He glanced up with a smile. “Another date?”

 

George nodded. “Yep. I'm meeting Fletcher for lunch.”

 

“How long have you guys been going out?”

 

George sat on the ground, deciding to go with `kind of stinky' socks. “Ugh…over a month!”

 

Fred laughed, knowing that groan. “And you still haven't shagged?” He shook his head jokingly.

 

George checked the clock and hopped up. “I will soon…most likely…probably… Hopefully? Probably…not.”

 

Fred chuckled. “Get going, lover boy.”

 

George whacked Fred on the head as he walked off. “Bye!” He shouted as he headed out the door. Where shall I take Fletcher for lunch…hmm…

 

Fletcher checked the clock and jumped off the couch. “AH! I forgot!” He ran off to his room, brushing his hair to make it lay flat. Failing at this, he shoved his hat over his head and grabbed his shoes, stuffing them on his feet as he ran back into the living room, just as the door bell rang. “Bye, Russell!”

 

“You're going out with that prick again, aren't you?” Russell called from the kitchen, preparing his own lunch.

 

“Yep, but stop calling him a prick!” Fletcher said, as he opened the door.

 

“Ready, Fletcher?” George asked, still finding Fletcher's name cool.

 

Russell peaked into the living room. “I don't want to have to do your chores again.”

 

George pouted. “Aw, come on, have a heart!” He winked at Fletcher. “Want to come with us?”

 

Russell rolled his eyes and turned back into the kitchen. “Bye Fletcher. Bye Prick.”

 

“Bye!” Fletcher said as he headed out the door, reaching for George's hand.

 

George playfully pulled it away, sticking it in his pocket instead.

 

Fletcher pouted and made his voice high and whiney. “George!”

 

“What?” He asked casually.

 

Fletcher looked up at him with big, sad, purple eyes. “N-never mind…”

 

George chuckled and rolled his eyes jokingly. “I'm teasing, Fletcher.” He took his hand out of his pocket and offered it to Fletcher.

 

Fletcher grasped it happily. “So where are we going anyway?”

 

George shrugged. “You'll just have to wait and see.”

 

Fletcher bit his lip. “A surprise? Um…” Fletcher had learned that surprises from George can range from good to scary. Like that piece of candy…that was bad. Actually, he couldn't recall a `good' surprise, just ones that made him really scared for his life and/or sanity.

 

“Aw, Fletcher, you'll like it this time.” George said with a grin. Hm…Chinese sounds good.

 

Fletcher smiled, feeling a little relieved. As they walked along, the area slowly became familiar. As they continued, it became even more familiar. He suddenly had a bad feeling that they were closing in on The Chinese restaurant. The one owned by a particular man named Kento Fuan Rei…

 

Fletcher squeezed George's hand, shaking his head nervously. “No! We can't go in there!”

 

George raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

 

“I-I…I'm allergic to Chinese food!” Fletcher lied, feeling bad about it. He knew things would be twice as bad if he went in there though.

 

“Chinese food or just fish?” George asked. He had never heard of a person being allergic to a whole culture of food before.

 

“Chinese food!” Fletcher cried, trying to turn around.

 

George wasn't buying it though. They were already right in front of the restaurant. “Aw, Fletcher, I've been craving Chinese all day!”

 

“But….but…”

 

“Never heard of anyone running from a Chinese restaurant before,” said a loud, deep voice.

 

Fletcher stopped, his eyes on the ground, and turned around slowly. George looked between the two, curious about Fletcher's sudden mood change.

 

“Fletcher?” Kento asked with wide eyes, recognizing the green hat. “I haven't seen you for quite some time. Since when are you `allergic' to Chinese food? You came in here every single day, for months! Then you just disappeared without a trace.” He continued on and on, using lots of hand gestures.

 

George, having no idea what's going on, nodded his head, not really listening anymore, but agreeing anyway. Fletcher continued staring at the ground, his entire body turning red.

 

“Oh, I bet you guys are hungry. I'll get you a table.” Kento opened the door and waved them in. “A nice table too, if you hurry.”

 

George smiled and pulled Fletcher along, nodding at Kento as he passed by. Kento walked through and then led them to a nice table. He handed them menus.

 

“Here you go. I'll be back to take your orders,” Kento said. “I'm the owner, Kento, so don't order the cheapest thing, I'll pay for it.” Of course he'd pay. It's Fletcher.

 

George smiled. “Thanks mate. I'm George. When's your lunch break? You can join us if you want.” He didn't really want to accept the meal because of his Weasley pride, but he wanted to get to know Kento as well, and to do that, he had to accept his hospitality. It was obvious that Fletcher and Kento knew each other previously and he wanted to know more.

 

“Sure. I'll sit with you when you get your order.” Kento nodded and walked toward the kitchen.

 

George rests his elbow on the table, chin in the palm of his hand and grins. “So? Tell me, how do you and Kento know each other?”

 

Fletcher reluctantly pulled off his hat and sighed. “We met through a friend.”

 

“Oh? How long have you two guys known each other?” George asked, letting the Spanish Inquisition begin.

 

“Um…I don't know. I guess about a half a year.” That's a lie! Fletcher knew exactly how long ago he met Kento.

 

“So what kind of relationship did you guys have?” George asked almost too casually.

 

Fletcher blushed and his eyes widened. “…erm…”

 

“Did you shag?” George smirked.

 

Fletcher nearly fell out of his chair, his entire face red. When he opened his mouth to answer, all that came out was a small squeak. He sank into his chair and shook his head `no'.

 

George laughed. “Is that a no `we didn't' or a no `I'm not going to answer'?”

 

Fletcher squeaked again. “We didn't!”

 

“Then why did you freak out and act all shy?”

 

Fletcher sat up but looked away, the blush fading slowly. “It's nothing. Don't worry about it.”

 

George frowned. “Wait-,”

 

Kento arrived with their drinks. “What did I miss?”

 

The blush returned full force causing Fletcher to sink in his chair yet again. George tried to smile, but he was rather curious about these two. Should he be mad? Jealous? Or what?

 

Kento laughed. “A lot apparently.” He took a seat and looked between the two. “Are you two on a date?”

 

Fletcher nodded with a squeak.

 

“How long have you two been dating?” Kento asked.

 

“A while now,” George said, not liking how this was going. He wanted to be asking the questions. “So what kind of relationship do you guys have?” He asked quickly, beating Kento to his next question.

 

“Just friends,” Kento said with a shrug. “But I think,” he leaned in towards George playfully, whispering just loud enough so Fletcher could hear. “Fletcher had a crush on me.”

 

Fletcher jumped up. “That was a long time ago!”

 

George smirked. “Yet you're blushing again.”

 

“Well it was a long time ago. I just…I mean….” Fletcher sat down and fidgeted. “I didn't bother to tell you.”

 

“Tell me what? That you had a crush on a hot Chinese guy?” George said with a laugh. “It's just a crush, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Kento leaned back in his chair. “It was a pretty big crush though. He came everyday and would wait for me to get off work. Then we would walk home together. And this one time, Fletcher was getting mugged. I had to save him. I totally kicked the guy's ass. But it was Fletcher, so I had to.”

 

Fletcher's face, neck, ears and every other bit of skin visible was turning redder and redder and redder. Despite this, Kento kept going on and on.

 

“Oh, but he can do this really cool thing with plants, man. He draws this circle thing and then there's this light and then the plants get bigger and better!” Kento said, attempting to explain alchemy.

 

George raised an eyebrow, looking at Fletcher. “What the hell is he talking about?”

 

“Plant alchemy,” Fletcher said, sinking under the table until his eyes were the only things visible.

 

“Alchemy?” George repeated, staring off and thinking. If Fletcher knows alchemy, then maybe he won't freak out about me being a wizard. Most likely, he wouldn't understand right away, but he wouldn't run either. He shrugged. “That's cool.”

 

Kento was about to go on when a short boy wearing a waiter's uniform and messy brown hair came over to the table. He munched on a spring roll before addressing Kento.

 

“Hey boss, we've got a problem.”

 

“What now, Goku?” Kento frowned. “And quit eating the food.”

 

Goku hid the spring roll behind his back. “The Mabudachi trio just arrived.”

 

Kento groaned. “Alright, I'll be over there in a minute.”

 

Goku shook his head. “Too late for that boss, they've already spotted you.” He quickly ran off, hiding in the kitchen.

 

“Keeeeeeeeeeeeeentooooooooooooo!”

 

Kento grimaced and stood up to greet Ayame. “Aya-san, you're back already? You brought Shii-san and Hatori-san too.”

 

Hatori had already taken their regular table in the smoking section, shaking his head. He asked them, told them, to not make a scene.

 

Shigure smiled and waved, noticing the red head and the blond boy. “Why don't you ever sit with us? Isn't it rude to have favorites?”

 

Kento shook his head. “It's not favoritism. Let's go to your table and I'll take-,”

 

“What a cute hat!” Ayame exclaimed loudly, clasping his hands together and smiling. “Are you two on a date?” George nodded, but before he could say anything, Ayame continued. “Oh, you know,” he walked behind George, took his shoulders in his hands and leaned in close. “You're little boyfriend would look ravishing in one of my handmade dresses. All of your fantasies will be done in one of my dresses!”

 

Fletcher squeaked, and tried to hide his face in his hat.

 

George chuckled, thinking Ayame was some kind of weirdo. “Thanks, but I'll pass.”

 

Ayame whipped out his business card. “Just in case you change your mind,” he said with a wink.

 

George smiled. “I'll keep this in mind.” He pocketed it just to make Fletcher blush, which he did.

 

“Let's go, Aya-chan. I'm hungry,” Shigure grabbed Ayame's hand and pulled.

 

Kento led Shigure and Ayame to their table where Hatori scowled and blew smoke in their faces.

 

“Didn't I tell you not to make a scene?” He asked, stamping out his cigarette in an annoyed fashion.

 

“Did we?” Ayame asked, looking perfectly innocent.

 

Shigure shrugged. “I know I didn't.”

 

“Hey, guys, can I take your orders?” Kento interrupted, knowing that with these three, it could go on forever.

 

Back over at Fletcher and George's table…Fletcher was till blushing red.

 

“Can…can we just leave?”

 

“Why? This place is fun!” George said, laughing.

 

“George!” Fletcher moaned. “Can we just go home? I'll make you lunch.”

 

George stood up, thinking. “You're house? The place with your bedroom?”

 

Fletcher followed suit, heading toward the exit. “Well yeah, but we'll be in the kitchen…”

 

“But…you're bedroom.” He held the door open.

 

Fletcher rolled his eyes. “What about my bedroom?”

 

George followed him out. “Well,” he wiggled his eye brows. “There's plenty we can do in your bedroom.” His thoughts have to be censored by this point.

 

“George! If you say bedroom one more time, I'm not going to make you lunch!” Fletcher said, storming off down the sidewalk.

 

George laughed and ran to catch up. “So, you want to go straight to your bedroom then?”

 

Fletcher stopped dead in his tracks nearly causing George to run right into him. “That's it! I'm going home alone!”

 

Smiling, George kissed his cheek. “Aw, honey muffin, don't be like that.”

 

Fletcher blushed. “Alright….I won't. But no more of this bedroom stuff.”

 

“Hey, hey Fletcher,” George said, taking Fletcher's hand and leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Bedroom.”

 

“ARGH!”

 

Despite his efforts, George still didn't get any.

 

Zee End.