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When Jeno returns home for Christmas at the end of his sixth year, he didn’t expect to already have guests over. Though he’s home a day later than usual for he stayed behind at Hogwarts for an extra day to file some paperwork. (Being head boy of Gryffindor was a demanding job).
But Christmas wasn’t in for another two days, and though the Lee’s ridiculously large mansion could house almost half the neighborhood, Jeno still wonders why there is still an unknown couple sitting in his living room.
He puts down his suitcase on the table by the moving portrait of his late grandfather and removes his coat, mumbling a quick thanks when one of the house elves takes his things to his room.
Jeno eyes the strangers who are seemingly having an amusing conversation with his parents as he titters through the hallway. He knows they aren’t some random couple his parents offered to house for the holiday because they’re dressed in luxurious clothing as similar as his parents, pearls glistening around the women’s neck and wrists.
The chattering stops and suddenly all eyes are on him, the clicking of his oxfords to blame for announcing his presence. Jeno receives a warm smile from his mother before she gets up from her seat to pull her son in an embrace.
“Welcome home, son.” She greets, tiptoeing slightly to gently kiss the boy’s cheek.
“Who are these people, mother?” He asks softly, grinning awkwardly when he makes eye contact with the man sitting next to his father. His mother places a graceful hand on Jeno’s back, guiding him towards the center of the room where he could clearly see their guests.
She introduces the couple as Mr. and Mrs. Na, fellow investors with their own company. Apparently they were a pureblooded Slytherin family who are equally as influential in the wizarding world as the Lee’s, yet he wonders why he has never heard his parents talk about them.
Jeno straightens himself out when he hears about their status, greeting them formally and introducing himself with a polite 90-degree bow.
“Oh he’s such a fine young man, Tiffany.” Mrs. Na comments, eyes twinkling as she gazes at Jeno oh so fondly. “He’s perfect for our Jaemin.”
Jeno almost chokes at this. He turns to look at his mother, confused. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Jaemin is your future husband.” His father explains with a slight chuckle. “We’ve agreed with the Na’s to join our companies and build up an even larger empire. You’ll be wed with Jaemin once you’ve both graduated from Hogwarts to seal the deal.”
Jeno doesn’t have the chance to say a single word. He is speechless, his mouth hanging open slightly.
“Mother, when is this Jeno boy coming?” A voice resonates from the hallway, and Jeno turns to look at its owner. “I’ve got my own things to do – oh.”
Jeno would think that getting married to this future husband of his wouldn’t be too bad if not for the sly smirk gracing his lips as he eyes him from head to toe. They’ve literally only just met yet this Slytherin boy was already getting on his nerves.
“Ah, Jaemin, there you are.” Mrs. Na exclaims, getting up and making her way next to her son. “This is Jeno, but I’m sure you already know each other from school.”
“I’ve never seen him before in my life,” Jeno mumbles under his breath. It was true though, for Jeno was someone who preferred to keep to himself. As head boy, he only knew things within his own house and his own people, rarely socializing with others. He was one of the best students, yet choosing to stick with his own small group of trustworthy friends, for those who knew of his status would only take advantage of it.
“Me neither,” Jaemin shrugs. “I’m always busy with Quidditch anyways.”
On the other hand, Jaemin was a pretty outgoing kid. Better known as one of the chasers for Slytherin, he was always socializing, though he’s never come across Gryffindor’s head boy. He wasn’t surprised that Jeno has never heard of him – because even if they did know each other, they wouldn’t exactly be friends.
Jeno sighs exasperatedly, wondering what on earth he’s done in his past life to have been cursed with an arranged marriage this way.
-
The two boys sit awkwardly in the quiet living room, both their parents leaving them alone to “bond”. They’ve been silent for almost ten minutes, the only sound in the room being their teacups refilling themselves.
Jeno sighs for what seems to be the hundredth time that night, hand curling around the ceramic teacup as he sips on his tea. Clearing his throat afterwards, he decides to break the silence.
“Look,” he begins; pausing slightly to make sure the other boy was listening to him. “We don’t care about each other, obviously, and we both don’t want this but –“
“Who says I don’t?” Jaemin cuts him off in a teasing manner, smirking when he catches the Gryffindor off guard. “This might benefit the both of us.”
“How on earth is this arranged marriage beneficial to us?”
“We’ll figure it out,” Jaemin shrugs. “I don’t have any plans after Hogwarts, anyways.”
“Seriously?” Jeno deadpans. “You may not have a plan but I do. I planned to ace the NEWTs, graduate happily and then work my way up the Ministry of Magic; but looks like that’s not gonna happen anymore with this stupid marriage.”
“Oh you poor little thing,” the Slytherin coos, patting the other’s dark hair for the fun of it.
Jeno scoffs and brushes him off, scooting away from him slightly. “Anyways, we still have another year at Hogwarts, and I don’t plan on having any distractions so if you could kindly not talk to me at school, that’ll be great.”
“We will carry on living through our seventh year the same way we did for the past six, not knowing each other.” He adds on.
“No promises, Lee.” Jaemin winks.
“I mean it, Na. I don’t want to be seen associating with you.”
“You’re such a square.”
-
Seventh year comes along quickly, and Jeno finds himself cooped up in the library more often than usual. He tells himself that he’s just working extra hard for the upcoming NEWTs, but really, he’s just trying to avoid a certain someone.
Said person has been a pain in the ass ever since the Christmas break, poking fun at him and constantly calling him a square. He’s been blatantly forgoing Jeno’s request of pretending to not know him on campus, shamelessly sitting next to him in classes and bravely calling him darling right in front of his friends.
(His friends wouldn’t stop teasing him ever since they found out about the arranged marriage. Mark even offered to be his best man.)
Which is why he hides away in this considerably secluded spot in the corner of the library, wrecking his brain to concentrate on the parchments spread out in front of him. But his mind seems to continuously recall a pair of large doe eyes and a blinding smile.
“Found you!”
Jeno groans, throwing his head back in disbelief. He tugs at his hair frustratingly, burying himself face-first in his potions book as he ignores the presence behind him. He begins to repeatedly knock his forehead against the pages when Jaemin doesn’t stop talking.
“Oh don’t do that to your handsome face, honey.” The Slytherin taunts, giggling when Jeno lets out a dramatic sob into his book. “I’d like my future husband’s face to be in one piece when I marry him, thank you very much.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Jeno questions in a muffled voice, still face-planted into his potions book. “And how did you even find me?”
“Nope, practice is cancelled.” Jaemin replies with a smack of his lips, pulling out a chair and plopping his butt down next to the boy. “And Jisungie said I’d find you here.”
Jisungie? Seriously? That boy is dead to me.
“In the name of Godric Gryffindor will you please just stop this?” Jeno complains, finally pulling his face away from his book to face the younger with a frown. “Stop talking to me and stop talking to my friends. You’re being such a pain, Na.”
Jaemin gives a playful smile and cocks his head to the side. “What kind of pain? The good kind?”
Jeno scoffs, resisting the urge to hex the boy. He diverts his attention back to his books, aggressively flipping through the pages.
Fucking Slytherins and their damn mouth.
“You know,” said Slytherin speaks once more, to Jeno’s distaste. “You should smile more. That constant frown is gonna wrinkle you up like a prune before you even turn thirty.”
“I do smile, just not when you’re around.” Jeno grumbles. “What’s it to you?”
“Oh nothing. I just want my future husband to actually look like my husband and not my father when we’re older.” He teases, resting his chin on the Gryffindor’s shoulder before whispering into his ear. “Unless you’d like me to call you daddy?”
Jeno reddens and smacks him with a roll of parchment.
-
“Come watch my Quidditch match tomorrow.” Jaemin requests, no, demands when he openly approaches the Gryffindor in the grand hall.
Jeno ignores him, continuing to nibble at his pumpkin pasties while scribbling in his notebook. Jaemin impatiently pokes his cheek for a response but the older pays no mind.
“Hey, I’m not a ghost.”
Mark quirks a brow from across the table at Jeno’s lack of response, nudging him under the table with his legs. The head boy wordlessly picks at another pumpkin pasty and flips to another page on his notebook.
Jaemin pouts. “You better reply me or I’ll scream.”
The older doesn’t comply still, grabbing his goblet and loudly sipping his water as if to mock him.
“Suit yourself,” the Slytherin shrugs. He stomps on top of the bench and cups his mouth with his hands before shouting.
“HEY EVERYONE, JENO AND I ARE – MMPH!“
Jeno sputters when he hears the boy’s loud voice, quickly muffling his words with his hands and pulling him back down on the bench. He flusters at all the unwanted attention and slightly ducks his head.
“Fine I’ll go to your stupid match, now will you please just shut the fuck up?”
Jaemin grins.
-
Jeno begrudgingly finds himself in the stands the next day, squashed between some Slytherins who eye his obviously different colored robes weirdly. He buries his face deeper into his scarf, silently praying for his wellbeing.
He spots Jaemin not too far away in the arena, zooming around on his broom. He watches him effortlessly throw the quaffle through the hoop with a triumphant smile, and for a moment there, Jeno somehow finds him beautiful.
The way he sits atop his Firebolt as he flies around like a natural, wind tousling his dark brown locks. There is a genuine smile gracing his face and Jeno knows there and then that it’s Quidditch that makes the boy so damn happy.
(And out of nowhere, his mind suddenly thinks about wanting to be the reason for that smile as well, but he pushes the feeling aside.)
The game ends with Slytherin as victorious against Hufflepuff, and Jeno sports a little proud smile as he exits the stands.
“Didn’t think you’d actually come.” Jaemin comments when he finds the older after the game. “How was it?”
“It was alright,” Jeno purses his lips. “Though I could have been studying instead. Congrats on the win, by the way. You were… Good.”
“Thanks,” the Slytherin softly replies, and Jeno believes that the tinge of pink dusting the younger’s cheeks was because of the game.
“Yeah, I’m off to Hogsmeade with Mark. See you around, Na.”
Jeno doesn’t wait for him to respond, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and dragging himself in the opposite direction.
-
“You guys in love with each other yet?”
Jeno chokes on his butter beer at Mark’s sudden question. He swears he can never drink anything in peace.
“What in Merlin’s beard are you talking about?” He asks when he stops coughing, wiping away the foam on his lips with a handkerchief.
“I’ve seen it in those muggle movies that Donghyuck watches.” Mark explains a little too excitedly. “The boy and the girl are forced to marry, and they hate each other at first but soon they fall for one another and then BAM! Love.”
Jeno blinks at his best friend in bewilderment, unsure of what to say. His heart skips at the word love, and he recalls seeing Jaemin at the Quidditch match earlier on.
He shakes his head before replying. “Not gonna happen in a million years, buddy.”
“You hesitated.”
“I was thinking,” Jeno argues.
“About Jaemin?” The other boy teases.
“No, about… Muggle movies?”
“And how you wanna watch them with Jaemin?”
“Goddamn it Mark Lee,” Jeno complains, and said boy chuckles.
“You’re falling, aren’t you?” He presses on. “And so is he, I can tell.”
“No.” Jeno disagrees and shakes his head once more, finishing off the last of his butter beer. “We’re too different, Mark. Love can’t happen between us.”
“Why do you think that? Is it because he’s a Slytherin? Or is there something else?”
Jeno huffs. “It’s just the way it is.”
-
The next few weeks were a blur. The NEWTs were just around the corner and Jeno was stressing out – between his duties as head boy, preparations for the upcoming exams and his stupid arranged marriage.
Quidditch season had ended recently as well, which meant that Na Jaemin was around him more often to torment him with his presence.
Jeno would neither admit it to himself nor to anyone, but he was starting to grow fond of the Slytherin’s company. Though of course he still found him rather distracting when he’s revising in the library.
The head boy would sometimes find himself staring at the younger’s sleeping figure in the midst of writing about mythical creatures on his parchment, amused by his very short attention span towards his books.
Jeno abandons his essay one day to observe the boy instead, plopping his feather back into the inkpot. He rests his head on the table within crossed hands and faces the snoozing Slytherin. He scans his features with his eyes, starting from his hairline and ending at his pointed chin. He lingers at his eyes, admiring the long lashes dusting the highs of his cheekbones.
He looked so peaceful and gentle as he slept, a complete opposite of when he’s wide-awake and making Jeno’s blood boil.
He hesitates at Jaemin’s pink, plump lips and out of the blue, he thinks about kissing them, to which he almost slaps himself for thinking so. He suddenly feels something weird In his stomach, as if pixies were living inside it.
Jeno knows fully well what was happening, so he panics.
He nearly gets whiplash from getting up too quickly, and almost knocks over his inkpot as he hastily tries to pack his things. He flicks his wand and the borrowed books quietly return to their original slots on the shelves, but Jeno’s clumsy ass drags his chair out a little too loudly and the screeching sound effectively wakes Jaemin up.
Jaemin stirs awake, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. He sees Jeno looking pretty flustered, but he’s all packed up and ready to leave. Which was strange because the older would usually be glued to his chair, face in his books till he was chased out by Mr. Filtch late in the night.
“You’re leaving already?”
If Jeno wasn’t wrong, he swore he sensed a hint of sadness in the younger’s voice.
“Y-yeah, I uh,” he stutters out, already trying to shuffle his way out of the isle. “I gotta go d-do uh s-something, bye!”
Jaemin watches with a pout as the older scurries out of the library, occasionally knocking into tables on his way out.
“Weird.”
-
Am I in love with Na Jaemin? Jeno wonders aloud as he strokes his cat, Bongsik, back in the Gryffindor common room.
The feline looks up at his owner and blinks. Jeno stares back at his cat and he was probably seeing things but Bongsik literally rolled his eyes, as if annoyed. Who wouldn’t be when your owner has been talking about the same damn thing for the past two hours?
-
For the next few days, Jeno avoids the younger. He doesn’t go to the library to study anymore, staying in the confinements of his common room instead. (Though studying there was less productive, Jeno notes, but no way was he going to risk bumping into the Slytherin.)
He makes sure to sit next to other students in his classes, leaving no space for Jaemin to sit next to him. And every time he sees the boy approach his table in the grand hall, he swiftly slides out of his seat and escapes to his room.
By the sixth day, Jaemin was pissed. Did he do something wrong?
“There you are.” The Slytherin notes when he spots the older skipping stones by the black lake. Jeno tenses up and motions to leave, but Jaemin quickly holds him by the shoulder.
“Please, don’t leave.” He mutters almost sadly, looking up at the older through his lashes. Jeno turns around and sighs, refusing to meet the other’s eyes.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
“I wasn’t avoiding you.” Jeno murmurs under his breath.
“Yes you were.” The younger points out. “What did I do wrong?”
“No I wasn’t. I’m just busy studying.”
Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Don’t give me that shitty excuse, Lee. Even Mark doesn’t know what’s going on with you.”
Jeno scoffs and turns his form entirely to face the younger. “You’re even close to my friends now? How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from me, Na Jaemin? I’ve already told you from the start not to talk to me. You and your Slytherin ass are just the banes of my existence, I can’t concentrate!”
Jeno spits out words he never thought he would say before he could even stop himself. But the deed has been done. He feels Jaemin’s hand slowly slide off his shoulder, and he watches with regret as the Slytherin looks down at his feet.
“Do you really hate me that much?” He mutters, eyes still downcast.
Jeno doesn’t reply, unsure of what to say. He hears the younger sniff and is hit by a pang of guilt.
“You know,” Jaemin continues in a soft voice. “When I said I didn’t have a plan after Hogwarts, I was kind of lying. I really wanted to continue playing Quidditch, become a national player or something.”
Jeno wasn’t surprised; the younger was a natural at the sport. It doesn’t take a genius to notice that.
“But being an heir to the company, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. What more with this damn arranged marriage.”
The Gryffindor stays silent, for he knew that the other wasn’t done. Though he is caught off guard and his heart drops when Jaemin looks up at him with glassy eyes.
“I hated it. I hated how they have complete control over my life. But then I met you and I thought, hey maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. At least they got me someone close to my type,” Jaemin tries to joke, but the tears just couldn’t stop falling. He smiles sadly before rambling on.
“If I couldn’t be happy playing Quidditch, then I could try to be happy loving someone. Spending the rest of my life with someone who cares. And I thought you did. I thought you could love me. Kiss me like in those stupid muggle movies that Donghyuck watches but –“
Jeno cuts the rambling boy off by literally grabbing his face with his hands and pulling him closer to hastily press their lips together. He slides one hand down to the younger’s waist, kissing him like in those damn muggle movies that Donghyuck watches.
He feels Jaemin clutching at his robes, whining against his lips. The Gryffindor begrudgingly pulls away after a while, resting his forehead against the younger’s as he flutters his eyes open.
“What was that about?” Jaemin whispers, suddenly feeling shy from Jeno’s gaze. Damn, who knew this sassy and snarky Slytherin could blush like that?
Jeno chuckles. “Nicholas Sparks is a pretty good muggle writer.”
-
Jaemin watches Jeno’s bare chest rise and fall with the steady rhythm of his breathing, a blissful smile gracing his lips. He snuggles deeper into the crook of his husband’s neck, nuzzling his nose against the warm skin of his jaw.
Jeno stirs in his sleep. He cracks his eyes open and sees his husband looking all soft and domestic in his arms. They lock eyes and he smiles, craning his neck to plant a sloppy kiss on Jaemin’s nose.
“Damn I must be under the Imperius curse, cause I’d do anything for you.” Jeno murmurs playfully as he nudges their foreheads together.
Jaemin rolls his eyes. The older’s attempts at flirting was absolutely horrible, and Jaemin took almost everything in his will to not drop him.
Too bad he was already so helplessly in love with Lee Jeno.
“You’re so cute when you try to be romantic,” the younger giggles, tracing around Jeno’s bicep with his fingertips. The action makes the older shiver. His husband was an utter complete tease, what with his fluttering lashes and sharp tongue.
You would think the boy would be a little more civil towards Jeno after marriage, but bitch you thought.
Pureblood Slytherin Na Jaemin never failed to get a rise out of Lee Jeno, still poking fun at his habits and calling him a square.
But this time Jeno is used to it. Besides, his lips are always the best way to shut him up.
“I have a surprise for you,” the older says, carding his fingers through Jaemin’s dark brown locks.
“Well it’s no longer a surprise since you’re already telling me.” Jaemin remarks snidely, but he still feels overwhelmed by the thought of it.
Jeno ignores his comment, pulling the younger’s body closer to himself. “France next week. Ten days. Quidditch World Cup.”
Jaemin gasps, breaking away from the older’s embrace slightly to stare at his face in shock. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. Already got a portkey ready.”
The Quidditch fanatic squeals, launching himself back into Jeno’s arms and chanting thank yous and I love yous repeatedly. Jaemin literally almost sobs into his shoulder, for he had only dreamed of going to the World Cup. He couldn’t be there as a player, but being a part of the audience in that amazing atmosphere was good enough.
Jeno lets out an amused laugh, the soft tufts of Jaemin’s hair tickling his jaw.
“Merlin’s beard, you sure you don’t have any Veela blood in you? You’re so damn beautiful.” The older voices out in admiration. He drinks in the sight of Jaemin’s flushed face and sparkling eyes, deciding that the boy beneath him was way more beautiful than any Veela.
“Could you not mention Merlin when you’re about to kiss me? It’s weird.”
Jeno tsk-ed. “Don’t make me stupefy you.”
He doesn’t give the younger a chance to respond, swooping down and capturing his lips in an affectionate kiss.
-
“You never told me how you found me at the lake the other time.”
“… I sent my owl to find you.”
“Aww, you liked me so much, that’s embarrassing.”
“Lee Jeno we’re married.”