Chapter Text
***DRACO***
Draco stared at the invitation, having to strain his eyes to read the elegant cursive script. “Potter!”
Harry poked his head out from the bathroom. “Stop calling me that.”
“You weren’t complaining earlier this morning.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s different. When we’re not having sex, it’s weird.”
“We could be having sex. That is, if you think you can handle another round…”
“Is that a challenge?”
Draco shrugged, laying back on the bed and throwing the invitation aside. “I’ll let you decide what constitutes a challenge…Potter.”
…43 minutes later…
“Do we know anyone called Andreas?”
Harry leant up on his elbows and peered over at Draco. “You were thinking about some other dude while we were fucking?”
Draco smirked. “Jealous?”
“Not at all. I know how obsessed you are with me. Who’s Andreas?”
“No idea,” Draco said, leaning around the bed to retrieve the discarded invitation from the floor, “but he’s invited us to his wedding.” He passed the invitation to Harry.
“Accio glasses."
“At least pretend like you need a wand.”
Harry laughed as he put on his glasses and accidentally poked himself in the eye. He turned to Draco with an exaggerated smoulder. “I need your wand.”
“If you ever refer to my cock in that way again,” Draco said seriously, “I will break up with you.”
Harry laughed again – clearly, he didn’t realise Draco was not joking – and scanned the invitation. “You’re invited to the wedding of Andreas Andrews and Florean Fortescue the third,” he read aloud. “Oh! It’s ice cream boy.”
“Ice cream boy?” Draco asked.
“He runs the ice cream parlour in Diagon Alley.”
Draco stared at Harry blankly.
“Where we had our second kiss.”
Draco thought back to when he and Harry had first gotten together. A flash of drunken anxiety and hands shaking with the effort of remaining at their sides sprang into his mind but he quickly dismissed it. That was their first kiss. Their second, that was sticky hands and cold tongues. Draco strained his mind further trying to think of anything other than Harry’s mouth.
“The one with the green eyes?” He asked as a familiar face popped into his head.
‘And the sexy hair, yeah.”
Draco chose to ignore Harry’s commentary. He refused to be jealous of a man whose wedding invite was printed on paper barely 200gsm in thickness. “He has a boyfriend already?” It had only been a few weeks since he and Harry had hooked up.
“A fiancé I guess.”
Draco snorted disapprovingly. “He didn’t waste any time. I bet he’s still pining over me.”
“You? He was going to go on a date with me.”
“If that is the case, then he truly has the most awful taste.”
“Like you, you mean?”
Draco realised what he’d said. “Touché, Potter.”
“You really need to stop saying that– ”
“–unless we’re having sex. I’m well aware of the rules. Are you?”
Harry threw the invitation back onto the floor.
***HARRY***
“The decor is rather static, wouldn’t you think?”
Harry shrugged, staring up at the balloon arch outside the wedding hall. “It’s a muggle wedding, Draco, that’s kind of a given.”
“That is entirely untrue. In this year’s issue of Cheshire Bride, there was an example of the most delightful muggle wedding with revolving lights and an artificial river that ran the full length of the church. Not to mention in last year’s issue– “
“You read muggle wedding magazines?”
“Muggles are quite fascinating, you know. I’d strongly recommend reading outside the wizarding world’s prescribed literature, Potter.”
“It’s not the muggle part I was most surp– wait, we can’t have sex here!”
“Why not? We’re 27 minutes early and there’s a perfectly good coat checkroom just behind you.”
…26 minutes later…
“Harry, Draco, thanks for coming.”
Harry spun around as he finished retucking his shirt. Florean Fortescue the third stood at the entrance to the wedding hall in a bright turquoise tuxedo, a bouquet of pink and yellow flowers in his hands.
“Of course,” Harry said quickly, hoping Florean wouldn’t notice Draco’s unkempt hair or the missing button on his shirt. “We wouldn’t miss it for all the ice cream in the world.”
“Please ignore Harry’s cheesy phrasing,” Draco added, “but the sentiment is true. Thank you kindly for the invitation.”
“I felt obliged to invite you,” Florean said, “because it was the two of you that inspired me to propose in the first place.”
“You were going to propose to both of us?” Harry asked.
Draco nudged Harry. “Surely you mean just me?”
“Propose to you two?” Florean threw back his head and laughed. “No, I meant quite the opposite. You made me realise how incredibly lucky I am to have a man like Andreas in my life.” Florean smiled brightly as he said his fiancé’s name. “You should take your seats,” he said pushing them into the hall, ”I’m about to make my entrance.”
Harry and Draco scrambled into the hall and took the only remaining seats at the back of the room. Harry craned his neck over the crowd to get a glimpse at Florean’s groom, Andreas.
“What do you suppose he meant?” Draco whispered. “About us inspiring him to propose to some random dude?”
“I don’t know,” Harry whispered back. The only man he could see at the altar was a boring looking man in a plain black tuxedo. He was good-looking but not in a particularly striking way, just sort of so-so. “Maybe he wanted what we have?”
“Yes,” Draco agreed as the entire room turned their heads to watch Florean walk down the aisle, “that must be it.”
Florean was grinning the entire walk up the aisle and Harry couldn’t help but join in. That sort of pure happiness was particularly contagious. He squeezed Draco’s hand. They were still only early into their relationship but images of another wedding played in Harry’s mind with Draco in iridescent wizarding dress robes and surrounding by revolving lights.
When Florean reached the altar, he did not embrace the boring black tuxedo man. Instead he handed the man his bouquet and stood next to him, turning back to the entrance. Harry followed Florean’s eyes, curious to finally see Andreas.
Draco gasped.
At the entrance stood a man who could only be a god. He was tall with impossibly broad shoulders and ridiculous muscles between his neck and shoulders that could hardly be useful for anything. His black hair had been scooped up into a messy bun that somehow looked completely in place with his bright pink tuxedo and the turquoise and yellow bouquet in his hands. Then there were his eyes, blue-grey like Draco’s.
Harry felt his face blushing as he and Draco turned back to the front and saw Florean staring at his future husband with what could only be described as absolute and complete love in his eyes.
“So we never stood a chance did we?”
“Absolutely none,” Draco whispered back.
***FLOREAN***
Florean hadn’t taken his eyes off his husband since they’d exchanged vows. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have done so for the entire night if it wasn’t for the loud commotion during the reception when Florean had been feeding Andreas a chunk of their mixed ice cream wedding cake.
In a small corner of the room, a crowd had formed a circle and there were cheers and yells on all sides. Florean approached warily, never letting go of Andreas’ hand. In the centre – Florean should have guessed – were Harry and Draco sitting in chairs facing each other with extremely serious expressions. Harry’s hand was on Draco’s knee, Draco’s hand on Harry’s chest.
Draco moved his hand down an inch and Harry moved his up in response.
“What is this?” Florean asked.
“Chicken,” Harry answered, not taking his eyes off Draco. “I’m winning.”
Draco moved his hand to Harry’s naval. “No, you’re not. You’re about to back down.”
Harry slid his hand further up Draco’s thigh. “You’re the one about to back down.”
Florean closed his eyes for a second, thinking that perhaps when he opened them, this ridiculous scenario would disappear and turn out to have been a daydream. Unfortunately it was not. “Aren’t you two in a relationship now?” He asked.
“Yes,” Draco said with a smirk. “But Potter enjoys a challenge.”
Harry’s jaw visibly clenched but he didn’t look away. There was a determined look in his eye. “So does Malfoy.”
Draco immediately stood up, dropping his hand. “Okay, you win," he conceded. The crowd cheered. “Take me home.”
It was Harry’s turn to smirk. “Gladly,” he said, following Draco’s lead and standing up. They both turned to Florean.
“Thank you for having us,” Harry said politely.
“Never again,” Florean muttered under his breath.
“It’s been a pleasure,” Draco added.
“Not at all,” Florean muttered again.
The two embraced to apparate away but Florean did not fail to notice how both their eyes flicked over to Andreas for one last lingering look. Florean smiled to himself. He really was the lucky one. He returned his eyes to his husband, where they would surely now remain for the rest of the night.
Andreas was staring right back down at Florean, a wide smile on his face.
“What?” Florean asked.
“I was just thinking how lucky I am to be your husband.”
“No you weren’t.”
“It's true. That’s all I’ve thinking this entire day.”
Florean beamed and leant up on his toes. “I love you, Andreas Andrews.”
Andreas kissed him softly, and Florean could taste the remaining Veritserum Vanilla on his tongue. “I love you too, Florean Fortescue the third.”