Chapter Text
“You know, if I’d known a wedding was this much hassle, I would’ve never agreed to be a best man,” Wonshik calls across the yard, feeling sweat roll down his temples as he stood under the blazing mid-morning sun, waving his wand in lazy circular motions in an attempt to help raise the sparkling gold marquee— keyword being try. His wandwork is so sloppy that it’s making his side of the tent droop, dragging Hakyeon’s side down as well. Ignoring his friend’s yells for him to focus, Wonshik tries valiantly to not think about what the others might be getting up to in Sanghyuk’s parents’ nice, air-conditioned cottage. Probably binging themselves on the lemonade while getting their hair done, no doubt.
“Sanghyuk would’ve been devastated,” Jaehwan chortles from where he’s parked himself rather smartly under the shade of the sprawling oak tree, easily raising his side of the marquee with a flick of his wand. Wonshik can see the little flags waving lazily in the faint wind as the tent slowly shaped up, flashing different colours. “You’re his muggle bro. And if you said no, then he would’ve started fake crying to Taekwoon, and Taekwoon would’ve gone after you, and we’d be holding your funeral instead of their wedding right now.”
“Right,” Wonshik snorts. “I do value my life.”
“Plus, Taekwoon still hasn’t forgiven you for the time you accidentally lit the tail of his broom on fire, so I’d lay low if I were you.”
“Holy crap, Jaehwan, that happened years ago. When we were still in school.”
Jaehwan shrugs, grinning. “He never forgave, and he never forgot.”
Wonshik let out a muggle curse under his breath, slapping a hand over his face in exasperation. The motion interrupted his wandwork yet again, and his side of the marquee collapsed instantly, heavy cloth sweeping over a whole row of neatly lined chairs as it went down.
“Merlin’s pants, Wonshik, you’re impossible!” Hakyeon shrieks, stomping over to push Wonshik aside. He whines.
“It’s not my fault it’s so hot today; I feel like I’m baking in this suit!”
“And it’s not even noon yet,” Jaehwan adds helpfully, glancing up at the sun, which shone brightly down at them between a few fair wisps of cloud scattered over a light blue sky. Even the weather was celebrating with them.
“There,” Hakyeon says, sending the marquee upright with a firm flick of his wrist. Another flourish, and the overturned chairs were upright again. Hakyeon let out a satisfied puff of air and turned to Wonshik with a judging look. Wonshik resented that. Charms had always been Hakyeon’s strong point and his worst subject.
“C’mon, let’s go back inside before you get a sunstroke or something.”
“No kidding,” Wonshik groans, fighting the urge to undo another button on the front of his suit. He had no idea how Hakyeon or Jaehwan could stand wearing thick, heavy dress robes, but he himself had no desire to slip into one of those. If Sanghyuk could don a muggle suit, then so could he. One of the perks of having a muggle-slash-wizard wedding, Wonshik supposes.
The burst of cold air was like a breath of life when the three of them stumbled back into the cottage, toeing off polished shoes at the doorway and doing their best not to step on the tiny house elves scrambling around with gift boxes piled up over their heads. Hakyeon was immediately accosted by one of Taekwoon’s older sisters when they walked into the kitchen, presumably dragged away to deal with one of the old-fashioned relatives. This left Jaehwan and Wonshik to flatten themselves agains the wall, watching everybody else rush around whilst trying to sneak a few dancing gumdrops from the bowl on the counter without anybody noticing. A bunch of Taekwoon’s cousins were flitting about in pretty white-gold dresses, giggling at Jaehwan as they hurried past him into the hallway. Then, Sanghyuk appeared around the corner, squeezed between the girls with a hasty “excuse me” and proceeded to force his way between Wonshik and the counter, hair tousled and waistcoat rumpled like he’d been wrestling with a hippogriff.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Wonshik says, offering Sanghyuk a gumdrop. “Aren’t you supposed get your pedicure done right now?”
“Ha ha,” Sanghyuk deadpans, snatching the candy out of Wonshik’s hands. “I’ve finally managed to get Taekwoon’s aunt to leave my hair alone. She keeps on asking me if there’s something wrong with it even after I explained what hair dye is. I was really tempted to say it’s a muggle thing that purebloods won’t understand.”
Jaehwan snorts, reaching over to chop at the back of Sanghyuk’s neck. “You’re gonna set yourself up for some really fun time with the in-laws if you keep mouthing off to them like that.”
Sanghyuk pouts, combing his fingers through his light brown strands. “But Taekwoon promised we’d only have to see them every other Christmas.”
“Don’t tell me you forgot Howlers exist,” Jaehwan says with mock sternness. “Especially after spending a month pranking each other during breakfast with those.”
“I don’t think my ears work quite right anymore because of that,” Wonshik complains, recalling the less than peaceful mornings in his fourth year when that had been a trend, and Jaehwan laughs.
“What’re you made of, pygmy puff fluff?” he teases, and Wonshik flips him off in turn, not particularly caring if anybody saw. Taekwoon’s family is one of those pureblood families that still thinks they’re living in a 19th century wizarding world and is probably not prone to figuring out rude muggle hand gestures anytime soon.
“Jaehwan!” Sanghyuk’s older sister bustles over, dress hiked up to her knees in an attempt to keep it out of her way as she walked. A few elderly aunts made a scandalized noise, which she promptly tunes out as she grabs Jaehwan’s arm in a no-nonsense fashion. Definitely a Han family trait. “I’ve been looking all over for you, we need you to take your photo with Taekwoon now.”
“Right-o,” Jaehwan grins, fiddling with his collar. “How long has Taekwoon been standing in front of the photographer now?”
“About an hour,” Sanghyuk’s sister says, and Jaehwan’s grin widens.
“Oooh, he’ll be wearing the ‘ate-ten-acid-pops-in-one-sitting’ expression by now. I can’t wait to get my photo taken with him!”
“Try not to get yourself hexed three hours before my wedding starts,” Sanghyuk calls, snickering when Jaehwan gives him a thumbs up. Wonshik shakes his head and turns his attention back to the refreshments again.
“Holy shit, are those your mother’s butter pecan tarts?”
“Are they?” Sanghyuk asks eagerly, attention caught, and the two of them hastily picked up the entire plate before retreating to the empty living room next door. As much as Wonshik adored wizarding sweets, there was something wonderfully nostalgic about homemade muggle treats. It reminded him of all the summers he’d spend hanging out with Sanghyuk in this very cottage when they were still students, relishing in the simplicity of the muggle world as they swam all day in the nearby lake and scraped up their palms and knees running around in the forest. The cottage was Sanghyuk’s favourite place in the world, and despite his bitching about the summer heat, Wonshik was very glad Taekwoon insisted that the wedding was held at Sanghyuk’s childhood home instead of some stuffy old cathedral his relatives had tried to suggest.
“These are so good,” Sanghyuk groans, shovelling a third tart into his mouth. “I haven’t had them since I visited my parents in the fall.”
“You better enjoy your mom’s cooking when you’re still a momma’s boy,” Wonshik grins, quickly dodging Sanghyuk’s cuff at his head. “Though I don’t think you’ll starve with Taekwoon’s cooking; I’m more afraid for his health when you’re the one who has to make dinner.”
“Real funny,” Sanghyuk snorts, sticking his tongue out at Wonshik, but he grows a bit solemn then, staring down at the plate of tarts in his hands. “I’m really getting married, aren’t I?” he says softly, a note of disbelieving awe in his voice. “I’m really marrying Taekwoon. This isn’t a dream, is it?”
Wonshik blinks, watching Sanghyuk wiggle his socked toes and chew his lip, nervous. Well, that wouldn’t do. He reached out to clap a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Hey,” Wonshik says, light and reassuring. “This ain’t a dream, man. You’re gonna go out there, strut your way down the aisle in a manner that’ll make Hakyeon proud, and you’re gonna get married and you’re gonna enjoy every second of that married life, okay?”
Sanghyuk looks up, a wobbly grin on his face, and Wonshik has to swallow hard as his friend puts the plate down and yanks Wonshik into a tight hug, mumbling, “Thanks for being here, man. I really appreciate it.”
“Hey, I’m always here for a bro,” Wonshik replies, rubbing Sanghyuk’s back before they move apart. “Besides, I can’t have Taekwoon steal my best muggle pal from me.”
Sanghyuk laughs. “Looks like Jaehwan and I are gonna have to work extra hard on finding you a proper date then.”
“Oh no,” Wonshik growls, pinching Sanghyuk’s arm. “Don’t even think about starting your stupid matchmaking nonsense again.”
“But I don’t want you to be alone,” Sanghyuk whines, failing to disguise the snicker behind his words. Wonshik rolls his eyes.
“Might I remind you how you tried to set me up with a vampire last time?”
“Well, if you did manage to get together, the love bite puns would’ve been an endless source of entertainment,” Sanghyuk replies, wiggling his eyebrows, and Wonshik was just about to jinx Sanghyuk’s socks into biting his toes off when Taekwoon strolls into the room, jet black dress robes billowing out behind him as he walked. His hair was styled up and his stark white collar should’ve made him look like that pasty bloodsucker Sanghyuk and Jaehwan tried to set Wonshik up with, but like everything else Taekwoon slapped on, he manages to look stunning.
“Sanghyuk, we’ve got to take the family portraits now,” Taekwoon says, coming to a halt before Wonshik and a rather starstruck Sanghyuk. Then, like an afterthought, he adds softly, “Your hair looks good.”
“Help me convince your aunt then,” Sanghyuk laughs breathlessly, taking Taekwoon’s hand. “Is this the last set of photos?”
“Yes,” Taekwoon nods, looking infinitely relieved, and Sanghyuk grins.
“Alright, then let’s go get it over with.”
“Mm,” Taekwoon says, side-eyeing the plate of tarts, but then he turns to Wonshik and says, “Can I ask a favour of you, Wonshik?”
“Sure, what’s up?” Wonshik asks, surprised.
“Would you mind keeping one of my cousins company until I’ve finished taking photos and doing some of the wizarding wedding customs? He’s my other groomsman but he doesn’t really know any of the family members here because he’s only vaguely related to me, and I didn’t want him to wait alone while I’m busy.”
“Sure,” Wonshik replies. “Uh, how will I know it’s him?”
“I asked Sanghyuk to... what’s the word, taxt?”
“Text,” Sanghyuk supplied helpfully, grinning, and Taekwoon puffs his cheeks out. “Yes, text. I asked Sanghyuk to text him a photo of you. He’ll know who you are.”
“You texted him?” Wonshik stares, looking at Sanghyuk. “Is he a muggle?” That would probably explain the ‘vaguely related’ part.
But Taekwoon shakes his head, trying to subtly sneak a tart or five into his pockets as he talked. “No, he just happens to live in a muggle city and work a muggle job. He’s coming around in about fifteen minutes or so.”
“Uh, sure, I’ll keep him company,” Wonshik says, utterly bemused as Sanghyuk slaps Taekwoons’ hands away from the tarts, saying, “Just take the whole damn plate, you goof.”
Taekwoon does so with great satisfaction before nodding at Wonshik. “Thank you, Wonshik.”
“Play nice!” Sanghyuk calls, and Wonshik rolls his eyes. It wasn’t like he was going to start a fight on his friends’ wedding day.
When the two disappeared into the drawing room upstairs to do whatever weird wizarding ritual Taekwoon’s surprisingly superstitious relatives were planning, Wonshik hovered awkwardly in the kitchen until Taekwoon’s other sister shooed him out for taking up space. Then he hovered awkwardly amongst Taekwoon’s other pureblood cousins in the dining room until he’s ambushed by a harassed-looking Hakyeon, who’s holding his baby nephew in one arm and has a large cardboard box tucked under the other.
“Wonshik, perfect timing, can you hang on to this for me?” Hakeyon asks, not waiting for an answer before he shoves the box into Wonshik’s arms. “Whatever you do, don’t drop it, those things go off way too easily.”
Eyes widening, Wonshik glances down at the label stuck on the side of the box, which reads Dr. Filibuster’s Flamboyantly Flashly Celebration Cracklers. Packed into the box are approximately a dozen colourfully wrapped fireworks about the size of his fist. They all seemed to vibrate very slightly.
“Why do we even have these?” Wonshik asks. Hakyeon shrugs and hoists his nephew higher in his arms.
“Dunno, somebody ordered them. They’re planning to set it off once Taekwoon and Sanghyuk tie the knot, so bring them out to the marquee and leave it with Sanghyuk’s dad.”
“Right,” Wonshik mutters as Hakyeon sprints off, using accio to summon a baby diaper as he went, and tries not to think about all the damage those little fire crackers could probably wreck inside Sanghyuk’s crowded cottage. It’d probably be safer for everybody if he deposited those outside right now.
Wonshik turned on his heel, carefully side-stepping a mountain of presents piled next to and on top of the sofa, and had barely set foot into the foyer when he almost runs headlong into somebody walking through the front door.
“Careful!” he yelps, moving the box back. Thankfully, nothing went off despite the jostling, and the person he’d run into quickly moves to give him space, letting out a light, “whoops!”. Then they paused, and to Wonshik’s surprise the asked tentatively, “Ah... you wouldn’t happen to be Kim Wonshik, would you?”
Wonshik looked up, an answer on the tip of his tongue, and then he caught sight of the guy standing before him and every last thought he had evaporated from his mind in an instant. The newcomer was waiting for Wonshik’s reaction with an expectant gaze, two dimples dipping into his smooth, flawless cheeks as he smiled. His dark hair was swept away from his face in such an effortlessly attractive manner that made Wonshik wonder if the guy had just stepped out of a photoshoot— the light blue dress shirt, pressed slacks and fitted waistcoat only seemed to confirm that very suspicion. When the silence dragged on and Wonshik failed to form any kind of coherent reply in his throat, the guy shuffled a little in embarrassment. “Um, hi, I’m Lee Hongbin, Taekwoon’s cousin. I don’t know if he mentioned that I was coming...?”
“O-oh,” Wonshik croaked, feeling strangely breathless. “H-he did, yeah.”
There was something about Hongbin that just seemed to draw his gaze and hold it; was it his eyes, that seemed to glitter in the afternoon sun? Or was it his tall, broad-shouldered figure, lean and fit? Or was it the faint, silverly glow that seemed to hang about him?
Dimly, in the back of his mind, something told Wonshik that there was no way in hell Taekwoon could have a glowing cousin, but that train of thought derailed again when Hongbin’s expression lit up. “Oh, thank goodness, I was worried he’d have forgotten, it’s a busy day for him after all. Anyway, it’s really nice to meet you... may I call you Wonshik?”
And then Hongbin extended his hand for a handshake, and Wonshik gulped.
“N-nice to meet you too,” he started to say, and as he reached out to reciprocate the gesture, the box of fireworks he’d completely forgotten about slipped out of his grasp and sent every last firecracker tumbling to the floor by their feet.
Hakyeon hadn’t been joking when he said those things went off way too easily.