A/N: Smut warning. The whole first part. Other than that, this chap isn't all that interesting. The action (and I don't just mean the bedroom action) will pick up soon. I sort of wrote this thinking they had been dating between three and four months.
Stuck in my head again
Feels like I'll never leave this place
There's no escape
...
I don't know what to take
Thought I was focused but I'm scared
I'm not prepared
-Given Up
Hermione woke up slowly, feeling first the lack of clothes on her body, then the feeling of skin against hers. She opened her eyes and found herself looking into the sleeping face of George. They were lying in his bed above the shop, a place they had spent several nights since they had started seriously dating. She carefully disentangled herself and rushed to the bathroom. She pulled on George's bathrobe and stood over the sink, running a comb through her hair hopelessly.
"'Morning," she heard a sleepy voice come from behind her, moments before George's arms enveloped her from behind and his lips found her neck. She relaxed into him and enjoyed his gentle kisses tracing the curve of her collarbone.
"You certainly are frisky this morning," Hermione said as George's fingers started fumbling for the knot in the bathrobe.
"Don't want to talk," he muttered.
"And don't want to work, apparently."
George groaned. "I'm the boss. I can close the store and take the day of if I want to."
"It's Saturday. Busiest day of the week and all that," Hermione muttered, mentally begging him to stay with her. Her eyes opened slightly and she watched their images in the mirror. She was startled at how attracted to George she felt, especially for not wanting a relationship. He was stunningly handsome, from the shaggy red hair to his well-toned body, she even found his permanently mangled ear attractive; it gave him an air of rebellion, though she remembered vividly how he lost it and she admired him even more for it.
"I have some of the most well-trained staff in Diagon Alley. I think they can handle it if I don't come in today."
"It's your shop," Hermione muttered as George expertly unfastened the bathrobe and let it fall to the floor. He immediately resumed kissing her neck and shoulders from behind, letting his hands explore her front. Hermione watched it all in the mirror, feeling herself getting excited from the image of George's hands running over her body in an admiring yet forceful way.
"I already sent the owl," George muttered again, moving one of his hands between her legs. He started moving his fingers expertly over her, knowing by now what turned her on the most. As much as she wanted to close her eyes and sink against him he had noticed her watching his actions in the mirror.
"Like watching, minx?" he sneered into her ear, sliding two fingers into her as she gasped.
She could only nod in response, her eyes fixed on the hand between her legs. He worked her slowly at first, then sped up as she gasped and had to lean on the counter for support. Teasing her he continued to slow down and speed up as she watched him, begging for him.
"Please!" she gasped, as he slowed after bringing her almost to climax again.
Smirking at her pleading expression he worked his fingers until she orgasmed, she collapsed against the sink. His hand slid up her back, holding her bent over the sink as he entered her. He pushed himself slowly into her as far as he could, and for the first time she closed her eyes at the feeling. As he had before he moved slowly at first, and she watched him in the mirror.
Suddenly he started moving more rapidly, and he bent over to kiss and nip at her neck. His hands rested on her hips, guiding her quickly onto him then allowing her to rock back towards the sink. Occasionally he would glance at her face in the mirror, his a mix of concentration and pleasure. After what felt was too short a time she tightened against him, and they finished together. He had to reach over her and place his own hands on the counter to steady himself before letting her go. She quickly spun around and pulled him into a kiss.
"Can you talk now?" she asked between kisses.
"I don't know. Am I getting lucky again?"
"Not before breakfast."
"Damn. Breakfast, then?"
"Sounds lovely," she pulled her robe from the floor, tied it around her, and headed towards the small kitchen. She poked around a few cabinets, but found them mostly empty.
"It looks like the options are spaghetti without sauce or... yuck... instant mashed sprouts."
"We could mix them," George suggested, emerging from the hallway wearing a pair of pajama pants and nothing else.
"Double yuck. I'm going to take you out for breakfast, then we're going shopping so you have something decent to eat."
"And by decent you don't mean instant sprouts..."
"Yes, by decent I don't mean instant sprouts."
George checked the clock. "We can still catch the special."
"The special?" Hermione asked, wondering what kind of special ended at eight in the morning on a Saturday.
"The M-O-M special."
Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Are you sure we're ready for that?"
"It's not like you've ever met Mum before."
"Yeah, but you and I haven't really announced that we're an item to anyone beyond Ron and Harry. We tell your mother and it'll be everywhere."
George shrugged. "I think we're at that point."
Hermione nodded, and the couple got dressed. Fifteen minutes later they were standing in front of the fireplace, preparing to Floo to the Burrow.
"Relax, 'Mione," George said as she danced from foot to foot in nervous anticipation. "Mum loves you, it's not like she's going to freak out."
"I know, it's just different than when I'm over there just to say hi and spend time with you guys."
"Think of it as the same thing as that, just you have to sit next to me."
Hermione smiled weakly.
"Don't worry about it so much, 'Mione," he whispered into her hair as he pulled her to him. "Everything will be okay, I love you."
She pulled back to look into his eyes, which were sparkling. He meant it. "I love you, too," she whispered.
George Flooed first, and Hermione followed quickly in time to see Molly rushing over to hug her son.
"Hermione, too?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking from George to Hermione.
"Well, we, um..." George said, his confidence gone.
Hermione swallowed hard. "We're seeing each other," she said quickly.
Molly looked stunned for a minute, eyes wandering between the two. Finally she broke into a large smile. "Oh, Hermione," she smiled, bringing Hermione into a tight hug. "Breakfast, I'm assuming?" she asked George.
"What other reason do I come here except for food?" George smirked.
"Oh, George," Molly huffed, pretending to be insulted. She hurried them into the kitchen, where they sat as she made a large breakfast.
____
"Your ass looks amazing in those jeans," George murmured as Hermione bent over to take a look at the different cereals on the bottom shelf.
"Focus," Hermione snapped her fingers to one side. "Do you want regular or honey flavored?"
"I really don't give a damn, Hermione. Pick up the whole damn store if you have to. I just want to get you home and get those jeans on my floor."
"George," Hermione warned, straightening up and tossing a box of cereal into the cart.
"What? It's been a good day. My mom fully accepts our relationship and we celebrated by eating a giant delicious breakfast, and I had amazing sex on the bathroom counter this morning. There are dozens of other places in my flat I hadn't thought of having a shag before, I want to go home and try them out."
"Well, you go on ahead and have all the sex you want, I'll be along when I'm done making sure that you'll be able to eat something tomorrow."
George sighed in mock frustration. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the rack of spices she was now standing in front of.
"What spices do you have in your cupboard? I didn't check this morning."
"Spices?" George replied with a sheepish grin.
"Don't tell me you don't cook."
"I run my own business. And I date you. That's all I do. Cooking isn't in my list of 'necessary skills'. When Mum dies it might get shoved onto that list, but since she'll probably outlive us all, I'm going to be in the clear."
Hermione sighed as she started selecting spices and placing them in the cart.
"Don't do that. Don't act like you're already my wife. It scares me."
"How am I acting like I'm already your wife?"
"You get irritated at my jokes."
"No, I don't. I just want to make sure that you're properly fed. Your mother will kill me if she knows that I'm letting you live off spaghetti and powdered sprouts."
"Okay, okay. We'll shop, we'll take it home, we'll put it away nice and pretty like, and maybe you could teach me a thing or two about cooking."
"If you cook me dinner we'll have sex in whichever of the 'dozens' of places you want to."
George perked up. "You promise?"
Hermione nodded.
"I'm assuming instant sprout spaghetti is out, then?" George smiled, blocking a bag of crisps Hermione chucked at him.
Review please!
