Work Text:
‟It´s a game,” Hermione says exasperated, and Harry´s cheeks are flushed as she talks to Draco. ‟You and Harry have to pretend to be dating, the first person to chicken out, is the loser.” Harry stares defiantly into Draco´s eyes when they land on him.
‟Scared, Malfoy?” Harry taunts, smirking.
Draco scoffs, ‟you wish,” he growls back, before stomping over and dropping down next to Harry, promptly draping his arm over Harry´s shoulder. Harry huffs, burying himself deeper into the strong warmth of his side. He wasn´t going to let Draco fucking Malfoy win this game. Over his dead body.
Draco didn´t chicken out all night, even going as far as flirting with Harry! Which, Draco made a good point, couples do. He only had to look at Hermione and Ron to see them flirting. Or doing their weird version of flirting at least.
So Harry flirted back and draped himself over Draco. Draco didn´t back down, and Harry didn´t either. At the end of the night, most people were laughing and tipsy and most couples were locked in passionate embraces. Harry eyed them, oh no. He wasn´t going to let Draco Malfoy tell him he chickened out, and he turned to him, eyeing him up. He wasn´t gay, but he could kiss a bloke, it probably wasn´t so different from kissing girls anyway. So he did.
Draco spluttered pushing him away, ‟what are you-‟
‟Chickening out, Malfoy?” he asks, smirking. He was going to win this.
Draco´s eyes turned steely, ‟no way,” he growled and pushed Harry to the floor attacking his lips again.
The next day they walked hand in hand. The day after they had a bickering picnic, a date as people who date do. Malfoy had the fucking gall to send him love notes, or something stupid and sappy like that. Typical dating behaviour. So Harry sent him one back.
It spiralled from there. But Harry wasn´t going to back out. So couples had sex. Harry could manage. Draco looked apprehensive, then competitive, and when they were naked, eager. And Harry couldn´t let Draco be better at acting too! They had to act, not just do, so Harry acted eager. He wasn´t of course, he wasn´t gay, and he didn´t want Draco to fuck him. He just, acted like he did. Embodying a role, something like that.
It only seemed logical for them to move in together, all of their couple friends did there. Which meant sleeping together and having loads of sex together. Since that´s what couples obviously do.
And they needed money, so Draco came up with a plan. A B&B. Harry thought it´d be fine. They could work together. Harry could cook for their guests, and Draco could do the garden. They could be one of those domestic couples.
But a couple wasn´t perfect till they had children, obviously. Just look at Hermione and Ron! They had two kids. When Harry pointed it out, Draco shook his head and pushed him some papers. Adoption papers. For Teddy. Well. If they had to get bonded before they could, they would. Harry wasn´t going to chicken out for something as silly as a little bonding.
Draco rolled his eyes. At least they were friends now. Raising a kid with his friend who he pretended to love should be fine.
*
‟I´m sorry, repeat that?” Hermione says slowly.
Harry rolls his eyes, ‟I said of course I don´t love Draco, he´s just so bloody competitive. You think I´m letting him win after fourteen years?”
‟Letting him win?” she says slowly.
‟Yes,” Harry frowns, turning back from the stove, ‟it was you who suggested we play gay chicken.”
Harry snorts when Hermione´s eyelids blink so quickly that he can´t even see them touch. ‟You´re- you´re not serious, right? He´s your husband.”
‟Yes, well, couples marry,” he says defensively.
‟You two have sex constantly,” she says, ‟I caught you two like, four times already! I´ve been here for three days!”
‟As couples do,” Harry says puzzled. ‟I´m not gay, Hermione, I fancy girls.”
‟Draco Malfoy-Potter!” Hermione calls out, ‟get your arse in here.” Harry smiles at Draco, accepting the kiss on his lips and the slap on his arse graciously.
Hermione looks at them wide-eyed, before she turns back to Draco, ‟Draco,” she says slowly, ‟are you- I don´t even,” she blinks, ‟are you in love with Harry? Your husband?”
Draco seems to freeze, his eyes wide. Harry frowns, it´s not like telling their friends the truth was chickening out. It was just, remaining real of the situation. ‟Why- why do you ask, Granger?” he asks, his voice low. Oh no, that´s never a good sign.
‟I´ll take that as a yes,” she says, and she stands, ‟talk some sense into him,” she mutters, rolling her eyes and walking away.
Now it´s Harry´s turn to be frozen behind the counter. ‟What?” he asks, dumbfounded.
‟Honestly,” Draco mutters, ‟it´s nothing, Harry,” he says breezily.
‟Nothing? You just- do you- what?” he asks wide-eyed. Does Draco love him? Like, romantically? But- But it was a game. Right? Just a game.
‟Really, Harry,” Draco says softly, not looking at him, ‟did you think this was all a game still? Binding us to each other, adopting a kid, did you do that just for the game? It isn´t about a bloody game any more, is it?”
‟But-‟ he looks up from their meal. Eyes wide. Draco looks at him. ‟I- yeah?”
‟Jesus Christ,” Draco says, ‟I- you really don´t feel anything? This is all just because you´re too prideful to lose?” He throws his hands up, ‟alright then I chicken out, we´re not playing the game any more.” He crosses his arms, ‟you can pack your stuff and live your straight life that you apparently dream of,” he spits out before stomping off.
Harry looks after him bewildered. What just happened? He won the game? But- shouldn´t it feel better, to win? He slowly stirs the soup. He could, go out, and- and. And what? Be alone? Not having Draco in his arms when he sleeps? Not see the adorable frown when it´s early, and he needs to get up. Not have sex-
Oh no. Was he- was he gay? He looks up wide-eyed when Draco slips back in. Tears on his cheek, his head low, ‟I-‟ he starts.
‟Don´t leave me,” Draco whispers, his voice begging. ‟Please. I don´t- you- do you really feel nothing for me? Was it really just a game? Our marriage? Our honeymoon? Our kids? Was it, just for the game?”
Harry nods slowly, and Draco´s face crumples. ‟But I- I want it too,” he says quickly, almost stumbling over his words. ‟I- I might be gay?” he asks.
Draco dries his tears, ‟you might be?” he asks exasperated, ‟you´re such a himbo,” he mutters, and Harry cocks his head in confusion. ‟Straight dudes don´t sleep with other dudes, not even for a bet, love,” he says, and Harry´s cheeks flush at the all too familiar pet name. Only now he knows Draco means it. That´s just different. ‟You´re definitely gay, or bi, or pan, or something. But you like men. Evident by the fact we shag. Constantly.”
‟Maybe I just like you,” Harry says shyly, turning his flushed face back to the stove. Turning off the heat. ‟Do you- are you angry at me? For- for not realising?” he whispers, eyes turned away from his husband.
Draco comes closer, ‟not if nothing will change.”
Harry worries his lip, ‟I´ll mean everything now,” he whispers, and Draco laughs softly, pressing a slow kiss to Harry´s lips. ‟Oh,” he blushes, ‟that´s different somehow.”
Draco closes his eyes, laughing softly, ‟yeah, because no we both mean it.”