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Draco flopped on to the bed, sated and exhausted. Charlie shifted next to him, waving his wand to remove the stickiness before it could dry.
“The Ministry ball is next week,” Draco said after awhile. “Are you going?”
“Yes, my mother's not giving me much choice,” Charlie said with a laugh. “She wants to introduce me to some girls. I think she's tired of me being the only one not married and giving her grandchildren.”
Draco gave a laugh as well, but it was far more stilted. He hoped, though he would never admit it aloud, that the ball would finally be the place they could move past this friends with benefits thing they'd started months ago. It had seemed a good idea at the time, a fun diversion, but somehow it had become more, at least for him. He wanted more out of it. The problem was that Charlie had given him no sign of wanting the same.
“I'm sure that must be very hard for you,” he drawled instead of what he really wanted to say. If there was one thing he'd learned in his life, it was how to keep quiet about the things that really mattered. “All those girls begging for your attention. I've heard the Weasleys are quite popular after the war.”
“A bit too popular for me,” Charlie replied, rolling his eyes. “I'm not interested in a relationship, much less settling down, with some girl just because of whatever ridiculous stories from the war are spreading right now.”
The words pinched, but Draco pushed it down. He hummed noncommittally, allowing the conversation to die down. Most times, they'd lay and talk for awhile after sex, but he suddenly wasn't feeling like it. He rolled to a sitting position, looking around for his clothes.
“Leaving already?” Charlie asked, pushing himself up on one elbow. Draco nodded, not glancing at his sometimes lover, too busy getting dressed and gathering his things. “Alright. I'll probably be busy with getting ready for the ball so I suppose it'll be awhile. Take care of yourself, Draco.”
“And you,” Draco said shortly, aware he was being rude, but unable to stand doing anything else. He knew Charlie wouldn't hold it against him. The redhead was far too laid back and cheerful to be put off by Draco's sometimes surly attitude. And he was quite used to it by now as well.
He allowed himself one last look before letting himself out. Outside the door, he turned on his heel, and with a loud crack, he was gone.
***
Draco returned home in a bad mood, though he tried to convince himself that it was unwarranted. Really it was, there had been no expectations out of his thing with Charlie, it was only him that wanted to take it to another place altogether. It wasn't fair to blame Charlie for that or even to get angry about it, but Draco knew he could be petty and bitter sometimes. This was one of those times.
His mother was in the front room when he returned home, reading some slim volume on magical beauty or wizarding genealogy or something of the sort. She called a greeting to him as he came through the door, but he ignored it and went straight up to his bedroom. He felt like a petulant child, but it couldn't be helped. She'd been needling him about finding a girl at the ball and that was sure to come up if he stopped to talk. He didn't think he could deal with that right now.
***
Despite his best efforts at avoidance, Draco found himself cornered by Narcissa several times over the next week. Mostly she wanted to discuss the ball and what she expected from him. It was the same as he’d heard for months, that he needed to find a girl from a good family and marry, that the ball was a good place to make such a decision. She forced him out to Madam Malkin’s insisting he needed new robes if he was to make a good impression on any eligible girls at the ball.
She smiled vaguely at him when he insisted it wasn’t necessary, but of course he couldn’t give a reason why. His affair with Charlie was secret and looked to stay that way, no matter how much it pained him. To his mother’s eyes, and the wizarding world at large, he seemed like just another young wizard who needed to make a good marriage to help his family’s standing after the war.
With no ready excuses and not being the kind of son who blatantly disrespected his parents, even if his Hogwarts year-mates probably thought differently, Draco went along with it. He stood for robe fittings, he reviewed the appropriate conduct guides, he listened to Narcissa discuss his best chances of eligible bachelorettes. In true Malfoy fashion, he thought bitterly, as got ready for the ball and didn’t say a word about how he felt.
Lucius had mostly stayed out of Narcissa’s meddling with Draco’s romantic life, barely giving any indication that he knew what was going on. Draco knew that he did, though. He could see it in the raised eyebrows and the considering looks and the quiet scoffing, all of which told Draco that Lucius wanted him to marry up as well, but wasn’t thrilled with any of the available prospects. No one could ever really measure up to Lucius’ expectations.
The day of the ball was spent dressing and pampering and prepping for the evening. Draco felt like a doll as his mother inspected every facet of his outfit and hair with a critical eye, making sure he looked absolutely as good as possible. Lucius and Narcissa, of course, always looked their best when going out, though they seemed to make even more of an effort than usual. For them, this was a chance to show off, to show everyone that they hadn’t sunk, even if their family reputation had.
Draco felt alight with nerves as he prepared to floo along with his parents. He wasn’t particularly worried about the girls, though it was certain to be a pain to have his mother constantly poking him to be more social, to make the most of the evening. He could only hope that the amount of opportunities for her to be social would give him some breathing room.
Mostly, he was worried about seeing Charlie. No matter how much he tried to fight it, he did have feelings for the other man, ones that ran deep and far more painful than he ever could have expected. And Charlie was popular, both for his family and himself. He was bound to be surrounded by girls, especially as he’d said himself that his own mother was pushing him to marry as well.
Just thinking about that made jealousy rear its head, a sick feeling starting in the pit of Draco’s stomach. He strove to keep his face blank, not wanting his parents to see how much he was hurting, as they flooed and were greeted by Ministry workers who directed them to the main area of the ball.
The ball was already packed by the time Draco, Lucius, and Narcissa arrived. Narcissa immediately slipped into the crowd to socialize and make nice with the new British wizarding upper class. The reputation of their family had taken a huge hit during the war, but they hadn't fallen as far as some of the other families, and it had risen a bit when they’d abandoned the Dark Lord. Narcissa had made it her goal to work their reputation back up to where it had once been.
Lucius was somewhat more reserved, walking through the crowd as if he was still in the top echelon. It was one of the things that frustrated Draco the most, not least because it meant Lucius still treated the Weasleys like the dirt beneath his feet.
As a whole, Draco had no great love for the Weasleys, but he hated to see his father insult Charlie. He longed to say something, but he knew both of their families would be unhappy with their current arrangement, and even more so with what Draco wished he could have with the other man.
When they'd started this friends-with-benefits arrangement, Draco thought it would be simple. They weren't even really friends, it was just a means of regular sex and a way to stick it to his family, even if they weren't aware of it. He knew it had basically been the same for Charlie, though without the family bitterness.
As the months progressed, they stayed longer, talked more. They were something like friends, at least in the privacy of whatever bedroom they hid away in for a few stolen hours. It would have been nice to stay that way, but it didn't. Things changed, at least for Draco, and it was becoming harder to pretend that they hadn't.
Draco was drawn from his self pitying musings by his father scoffing beside him. He looked up, following Lucius's gaze across the room to where several of the Weasley's were huddled. Mrs. Weasley seemed to be introducing a girl to Charlie, who smiled at her. Too brightly, in Draco's estimation, but he tried to push that feeling down. Still, the feeling burned in his chest, heavy and bitter.
Lucius quickly became bored of tutting at the Weasleys and wandered off, probably to find one of his old cronies to commiserate with, but Draco felt locked in place. He couldn't stop staring, watching every move Charlie made, especially when the other man took the girl's hand and moved out onto the dance floor.
Charlie danced more gracefully than Draco would have thought, though he wasn't really sure why he hadn't considered Charlie might be a good dancer. The eldest Weasley was always confident, his movements sure and strong. Draco had seen that well enough in bed, it stood to reason that he'd be the same on the dance floor.
The couple continued to dance, spinning in and out around the other dancers, smiles on their faces as they laughed, obviously having a good time. Draco tracked them with his eyes, moving around the edge of the room so he could always keep them in sight. Several people tried to talk to him, but he ignored them, too caught up in his own head.
The feeling from before was growing stronger, a buzzing starting in his ears as his vision narrowed, everything else in the room fading into the background. He was vaguely aware of his hands clenching and unclenching almost spasmodically at his sides.
A voice in the back of his head said that he needed to back away and take some time to calm down, but the majority of him raged against the idea. He hated the idea of Charlie with anyone else, hated this girl he didn't even know because she could do what he so wanted to do but couldn't. He wanted to push her away and take her place, declare to Charlie and everyone else, their families and the girl and all the other wizards and witches at this blasted ball, that Charlie was his.
He realized with a start that Charlie and the girl had stopped dancing and were moving to the edge of the floor where his mother waited, a wide smile on her face. She seemed pleased by the way her son and the girl she'd introduced him to had danced, probably already picturing the beautiful grandchildren they'd produce.
As the three of them talked, too far for Draco to be able to hear without a spell that would surely not go unnoticed even in the press of the crowd, Draco's mind took him unwillingly through a slideshow of what he imagined the future would be like. Charlie would court the girl a little longer, totally forgetting any connection he'd had with Draco. They'd marry and soon be popping out more adorable ginger grandchildren for Mrs. Weasley to coo over. They'd be happy, the perfect, beautiful couple.
The idea made Draco want to vomit.
Without even realizing he was doing so, Draco had moved closer, close enough that he was starting to be able to make out their conversation even through the loud babble of the rest of the crowd. He stopped, perhaps ten feet away, shaking and trying to convince himself that he couldn't do what he wanted to.
Abruptly, Charlie seemed to realize Draco was there, cutting off his words in the middle of a sentence as he stared, obviously surprised to see him. In that moment, Draco knew holding back any longer was not possible. He had to do what he needed to do and damn the consequences.
He crossed the space between them in a few long strides, fast enough that Mrs. Weasley and the girl could only stare, completely startled, at his approach. Charlie opened his mouth to say something, but Draco was beyond caring. With still shaking hands, he reached up to grab Charlie's face, pulling him down far enough for Draco to press a hot, desperate kiss to his mouth.
Time seemed to stop, sight and sound fading away until all Draco could see and hear and feel and taste was Charlie, warm and sweet and returning the kiss with equal fervor.
At first Draco almost couldn't believe that he was kissing Charlie, that the other man hadn't immediately pushed him away, that Charlie in fact was holding him close, hands burning brands on his hips. They'd kissed before, so many times Draco had lost count, but this was different. They were in public, more so they were in the middle of the Ministry ball, right in front of Charlie's mother and the girl she was obviously trying to set him up with.
They drew back after a time, eyes locked together. It took a moment for Draco to realize that the area around them really had gone silent, it wasn't just his distraction or imagination. Charlie gave him a look, a raised eyebrow that Draco somehow knew meant the older man was more amused than put off by the sudden public affection.
A soft cough made them draw further apart, finally looking around them. Mrs. Weasley was standing there with her mouth wide open, totally flummoxed by what she'd witnessed. The girl was nowhere to be seen, had probably fled as soon as she'd seen Charlie wasn't rejecting the kiss. Draco felt a stirring of satisfaction at that thought, though he knew logically none of this had really been her fault. Still, he'd never been accused of not being petty.
Around them, a small crowd had gathered, other witches and wizards gleefully desperate for a juicy scandal. They'd already gotten one, and there was sure to be more of that soon. The yelling hadn't even started yet.
Speaking of yelling... Draco finally caught sight of his own parents a ways around the circle that surrounded them. Lucius looked ready to pop, face so red Draco was almost surprised not to see steam rising from his ears. Narcissa, however, didn't look angry. Instead, she seemed to be considering him, head tilted in interest. Draco wasn't sure how to feel about that, it wasn't a reaction he'd been expecting.
“Charlie?”
Draco turned back to Mrs. Weasley, seeing she'd been the one who'd spoken. She was frowning, but surprisingly didn't look nearly as upset as he would have expected seeing as he, a Malfoy who was still disliked by the majority of the wizarding population, had just kissed her eldest son in the middle of the Ministry Ball.
“Yeah, ma?” Charlie responded, squeezing Draco's hand a little. Draco hadn't even realized until that moment that they were holding hands, too distracted by the attention they'd garnered.
“Am I to understand that he's the reason you didn't want to date any of the girls I introduced you to?” she asked, getting that severe look that, in Draco's limited experience of his own mother, only mothers seemed to get, in response.
Charlie looked somewhat abashed when Draco glanced over at him, rubbing at the back of his head with his freehand and smiling a little ruefully. “Afraid so.”
Mrs. Weasley was quiet for a long moment, glancing between them with a considering look just like the one Draco had seen on Narcissa's face. Without warning, her face broke out into a wide, happy smile, and she strode forward to embrace them both, arms pulling them close before Draco was even really sure of what was going on.
Draco couldn't stop from sending Charlie a frantic, wide-eyed look over the head of his lover's mother. He knew he had stiffened at the embrace, not really sure what to do or what was going on, and he really was not used to things like this. Malfoy's were generally very hands off as a rule and he could count the number of time he remembered his mother hugging him on one hand. He wasn't sure his father had ever done so.
Charlie merely smiled indulgently back at him, squeezing his hand again. It was somewhat comforting, though Draco still felt awkward, especially once he remembered that the crowd around them hadn't dispersed. Including his own parents.
As soon as Mrs. Weasley released them, Draco stepped back, brushing himself off and trying to recover his dignity. Mrs. Weasley was still smiling happily at him, and for the first time he noticed most of the rest of the Weasley brood standing with the crowd over her shoulder. Strangely, none of them looked to put out by this revelation, even Ron, who Draco had always thought hated him, just looked fondly exasperated.
Slowly, dreading every moment of it, Draco turned to face his parents on the other side of the crowd. It was no great surprise that Lucius wasn't there anymore, probably left in disgust somewhere around the time Mrs. Weasley hugged Draco and he didn't push her off. As much as things had changed in the last few years, some things really had stayed the same. Lucius was one of those things. Narcissa, on the other hand...
Draco hadn't seen his mother smile much since he was a child, but now here she was, smiling more brightly than he could ever remember her smiling. It wasn't the socialite smile she used at parties, or the condescending one she used on people she didn't like very much, or the soothing one she used whenever Lucius got angry at home. No, this was an actual smile. A happy smile.
“I'm happy for you, son,” she said, voice quiet, almost too quiet for him to hear her over the buzz of the crowd, but with an undercurrent of warmth.
Draco nodded, feeling himself relax. He hadn't realized until that moment how tense he was, how worried about how his mother would react. His father was easy to predict, and would never be satisfied with Draco's romantic dalliance no matter who it was, but his mother mattered. She seemed cold and distant to most, and indeed she often was, but in her own way, in the way of their family, he knew she cared for him. And in this, at least, she stood by him.
A squeeze of his hand reminded him that Charlie was still there. He turned to look at his lover and felt a small, secret smile grow on his face. His actual lover now, not just a selfish wish all tangled with a fuck buddy. He squeezed back.