A/N: Happy belated Valentine's Day! I really wanted to get this out on V-day, but that did not happen due to illness. I hate being sick and this stomach flu, or whatever it is, really got me down. But the chapter is finally finished. Note the rating change!
"I have an idea," Freddy said, jumping up and down excitedly. Angelina hummed as she walked through Molly's door. Freddy was always full of ideas, usually ones that benefited him. "What if you took me with you tonight and just left Roxanne with Gran Gran? We'd have loads of fun."
Angelina couldn't contain the unladylike snort.
"Maybe next time, buddy," George said. "Mum! Your favorite son is here!"
Molly Weasley appeared through the living room doorway, huffing. "Honestly, George, I don't have favorites. You know that." George rolled his eyes and handed Roxanne over to her. "And how are my beautiful grandbabies?"
"Ornery as always," Angelina said glancing at her pouting son. "Are you sure you don't mind keeping them overnight? I know they can be a lot."
"Nonsense," Molly said, grabbing a biscuit off the counter and handing it to Freddy. "They're always a delight."
George crossed his arms over his chest. "You never let us have sweets after eight."
Molly sniffed. "Well, I don't recall Freddy and Roxanne sticking a gnome to my kitchen ceiling either."
Freddy giggled, and Angelina figured it was time to go before her son decided to repeat history or worse. After telling Molly that they'd be back in the morning to pick the kids up, George and Angelina Apparated to the restaurant where they'd be celebrating Valentine's Day. Normally, Angelina wasn't big on the holiday — or many holidays for that matter — but George loved this sort of thing. He always said he'd never pass up the chance to show her off.
So, Angelina had spent five hours this afternoon getting ready while Freddy asked her a million questions. George had tried to distract him multiple times, but he wasn't having it. By the end of that five hours, she had her thick hair tied up in an elegant twist — she really needed to get it rebraided soon — her makeup perfected, and her mulberry purple dress fixed just so. She'd chosen to wear a midi length gown with cap sleeves. It had a deep plunge that ran halfway to her navel. Thank Merlin for sticky charms because there was no wearing a bra with this dress and she couldn't have gotten her boobs to stay in place otherwise.
"Reckon this is one of the nicer places you've taken me to," Angelina said as George gave the waiter their name. He looked dashing himself, with his hair combed and beard trimmed, matching forest green jacket and pants paired with a black shirt, and that mischievous grin in place.
As the waiter leads them to their table, George walks backwards so he can face her. "Are you saying you're surprised I can plan a decent date?"
"Pleasantly so," she said.
George opened his mouth to say something, and Angelina saw the waiter that he was about to collide with. Without thinking, she reached out and snatched the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward. The waiter sent them a scathing glare their way.
"I'm beginning to think they shouldn't allow Weasleys in fancy places like this," Angelina said drily.
George grinned at her. "You're a Weasley, too, you know."
"Touche."
Once they arrived at their table and were seated, Angelina picked up the menu. Quickly, they both decided on one of the simpler dishes. She'd meant what she said earlier about this being on of the nicer places that George had brought her. Even though they were fairly well off, they didn't do things like this very often. Angelina was too busy with her career and her kids, and, she suspected, George was more careful about his money due to his childhood. It was nice, though, to have an evening to themselves in a upscale restaurant.
The tablecloths were silk, which Angelina found ironic because the Weasleys tended to be messy eaters. There was a small centerpiece of braided roses in the middle of the table, an ode to Valentine's Day no doubt, surrounded by two long candles. The lighting was slightly dim, despite the chandelier overhead. The waiter had brought a bottle of champagne and a bucket of ice and sat it next to the table for them to enjoy.
"So, Mr. Weasley, any more surprises up your sleeve?" she asked. "A bouquet of flowers magically popping out of my dish, a choir of singing cupids?"
George laughed. "You'd kill me if I did that." That was fair. Angelina wasn't big on showy public displays of affection. "Besides, watching you in that dress is enough."
Angelina grinned. "You like it?"
"I love it."
He never failed to make her heart flutter when he complimented her so warmly, even after years of marriage. There was always such earnest sincerity in his voice, too. He never said things like that half heartedly or in passing. There was always meaning behind those words. It never failed to make Angelina feel like a lovesick teenager all over again.
Their food came soon enough, and George topped of their glasses of champagne.
"What do you think about Katie's suggestion?" he asked her.
"The one where we all go on vacation this summer?" she said. "I think it'd be hectic. Can you imagine having six kids under one roof for a week? And two of those kids would be ours, and you know how rambunctious they can be."
"Yeah, but Lee and Alicia's kids are well behaved enough to make up for it."
"You wanna go, don't you?"
George shrugged. "I think it'd be fun. We had a good time when the six of us went down there after we were all married."
"Yeah, but we wouldn't be day drinking this time, George," Angelina said. He was right though. When Katie and Oliver had invited them to their beach house, it had been a blast. They'd stayed out far too late and laughed about old times. They'd also drunk way too much alcohol. Angelina was positive that week had resulted in Alicia getting pregnant with her first child, Cassidy.
"Maybe not, but I still think it'd be fun."
"I'll think about it." Which was the same thing she'd told Katie when she'd brought it up.
"Fair enough. Tell me about Ludin and what they decided to do with him"
Angelina huffed before launching into the last update on the Ludin case, the bastard was facing fines at the least for his cheating. Angelina was hoping that he would be banned from the League all together. Super passed quickly as they jumped from Quidditch to the shop to their next family get together at the Weasleys. Before she knew it, they were paying their bill and heading home. As Angelina pointed her wand at the door and began to perform the unlocking sequence, George slid up her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his thumb caressing the seam of her neckline.
"George Weasley, are you trying to get in my pants?" she teased.
"I'm always trying to get in your pants," he said, pressing a soft kiss to her neck.
"If you keep that up, I won't be able to get the door open," she said as the kisses became more insistent. He didn't bother to reply, just slid his hand down her arm and guided her wand through the rest of the motions to unlike the door. And, fuck, if that didn't turn her on.
As the door swung open, Angelina spun in his arms, captured his face between her hands, and pressed her lips to his roughly. George backed her through the door and kicked it closed behind them, walking her straight back into a wall. Angelina giggled then moaned as George kissed and nipped his way down her neck, his beard scratching at her skin. His hand rose up to palm at her breast.
"I love this dress," he muttered sliding down her body.
Angelina was about to laugh when she leaned her head back against the wall and was harshly poked in the scalp. "Ouch."
George looked up at her alarmed.
"My hair," she said turning around. She heard him stand up behind her, and felt his hands gently slid into her hair, searching for the bobby pins that were holding her hair up. When he located two of them, he pushed them in the opposite direction of each other. One of them feel to the floor; the other pressed deeper into her scalp.
"Ouch," she winced.
"Fuck, sorry," he muttered, dropping a quick kiss onto her shoulder.
"Use your wand," she laughed.
He didn't have to be told twice, acioing the rest of the pins from her hair. Suddenly free of it's confides, her curls fell down her shoulders. George pressed his face into them. Angelina huffed and leaned back into him. One of his arms had wound its way around her waist. Gently, she tapped on the green fabric of his jacket.
"Take this off," she said.
He obeyed her quickly. Angelina heard his jacket hit the floor a moment before his hands were back on her waist, yanking at her dress. As she felt his calloused hands on her thighs, she couldn't help but press her hips back into his. As his hand slid up farther, he found no satin or lace to block his way.
"Fuck," he gasped into her hair.
"Please," she said.
Angelina found herself spun back around, and George dropping to his knees. Lifting her right leg in his hand, he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh. Merlin, the sight alone was enough to have her on edge. Then his mouth was on her and Angelina felt like she was in heaven. He'd always been sinfully good at this, where exactly to put his mouth, how to press his tongue just so. Angelina watched him through hooded eyes before running her fingers through his hair and yanking softly. His eyes shifted to her own then, and that was all it took before she was finishing with his name on her tongue.
"You are magnificent," he muttered, pressing kisses against her skin as he stood up.
Her dress was pushed up around her waist, allowing his hips to press directly against her center. His beard scratched against the tender skin of her neck causing her to squirm slightly.
"George," she breathed. When pulled away to look at her, she pressed the pad of her thumb into his bottom lip. "So good."
He only offered her a wicked grin before pressing a kiss against her palm. Frantically, Angelina found the buttons on his shirt and began to undo them. Once he'd shrugged out of that, she started to work on his belt and pants. His own hands were pressing into her back urgently.
"Fuck," he finally mumbled. "Does this thing have a zipper?"
She giggled. "It's on the side."
George huffed and his fingers found the side of her zipper and yanked.
"Careful," Angelina warned.
"I'll buy you a new one," he muttered.
By the time George had managed to get her zipper down, Angelina had loosen his belt and was pushing his pants down. Once he'd finally managed the zipper, he pushed the sleeves slowly off her shoulders until the rich purple fabric was pooled at her feet. Angelina kissed him hard then, backing up until his knees hit the edge of the couch. His arms slide around her waist, pulling her into his lap. Swiftly, she rose up and took him inside her.
"I fucking love you," he groaned out.
"How much?" she asked as she rolled her hips.
"Fuck, baby," he muttered, pressing his forehead between her breasts.
Her hips rolled experimentally a few more times, before she found a rhythm she liked. George's fingers were pressing roughly into the sides of her hips; she hoped there were bruises tomorrow, as proof that he'd been there. When he bucked up into her, she gasped, her core tightening.
"You're so pretty," George muttered, his thumb caressing the skin on her hip bone.
And there was that flutter again, the one she was never able to control. She loved that about them, how easy it was for them to fall into a rhythm like this. If Angelina pressed down hard, then George was swearing loudly and gripping her hips tightly. If George sucked desperately on her skin, then Angelina was moaning and pressing herself against his mouth. Until they were both coming apart together.
They rested their foreheads together while they caught their breaths.
"Mum should keep the kids more often," George muttered.
Angelina hummed, running her fingers though his hair.
"Fuck, that was good," he said.
"Very," she said. "Do you want to continue this in the bedroom? My thighs are cramping up."
George laughed. "Most definitely."