More Than That

Chapter 42

Sage had thought that she was still dreaming when she woke up the next morning. She'd been met with a faint smell of bacon and a quiet murmur of Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles as she slowly rose into consciousness, and it had seemed too good to be true. The mattress was too comfortable, the duvet too soft, and the thought of Fred puttering about the kitchen in his pajamas to make breakfast for her was too perfect to not be a figment of her imagination.

She blearily blinked her eyes open and realized with a smile on her face that she was in fact not dreaming and that she really was waking up for a day full of Fred. She assumed that he'd brought her up to bed the previous night because she had no recollection of crawling into the bed herself. She shook her head fondly, wanting to scold Fred for the action of kindness. He really could have just woken her up and told her to go to bed. Stupid Fred, always doing things to make her heart flutter in her chest and her stomach do little cartwheels.

The smile didn't leave her face as she sat up with the duvet pooling around her waist, nor did it leave as she quickly changed into a new t-shirt before going through a quicker version of her morning routine in the bathroom. The smell of breakfast was a little too mouth-watering to go through the full motions.

The way that the floor plan was laid out allowed for Sage to creep down the stairs behind Fred without being seen as Fred alternated flipping bacon and pancakes at the stove so she decided to do just that. She tiptoed down each step, trying her best to avoid any noise as she did, and quietly crept up to the clueless boy once she landed on the ground. He probably wouldn't have heard her anyway, too busy humming along to the muggle music on the stereo, but she was cautious just in case.

He jolted when she wrapped her arms around his waist and said a cheeky "Hi" into his ear.

"Fuck, Sage! I almost burned myself," he cursed but with laughter present in his voice.

"Sorry," she chuckled as he turned around in her arms, pressing his lower back against the counter in front of the stovetop.

"Goodmorning," he said with a grin once he settled down and looked at her.

She beamed up at him and murmured a "Morning," back before pressing a kiss to his bare chest. "Isn't cooking shirtless dangerous? Especially when you're frying bacon?".

Fred shrugged. "You see, Sage, I like to live somewhat dangerously," he teased.

Sage lightly shoved him on his chest. "Shove off." Her arms quickly resumed their position around his waist again, unable to resist the feeling of his bare body in her arms. It was just too good. "Not that you don't look absolutely hot. Fucking love you in these pants," she said and ducked her fingers underneath the waistband of his plaid pajama pants to tug it out and let it snap back to his hip audibly. "Bloody criminal."

Fred's eyebrow quirked and a smirk slowly inched its way onto his face. "Oh yeah? I'll have to keep that in mind."

Sage giggled. "Please do." She reluctantly pulled away from him and moved to sit at the island, resuming the opposite of the position that she and Fred had been in the night before when she'd been the one cooking. "I didn't know you could cook."

Fred scoffed as he flipped a perfectly golden pancake onto a steadily filling plate. "Please. No one can be raised by my Mum and not know how to cook."

Sage laughed. "Same with mine, it was like learning my way around the kitchen was more important than learning how to read when I was younger. I was actually behind in my reading classes, that's how bad it was."

Fred's laugh was so loud it was more of a cackle. "I think our Mum's would get along well. Like, really well."

Sage grinned. "They definitely would."