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Saturday had finally come—the Saturday Draco had been waiting for. Both his parents were out of the country. Nobody could stop him from walking the streets of London and enjoying whatever the city had to offer.
As soon as he finished his breakfast, Draco rummaged through his wardrobe for any clothes he hadn't had the chance to wear under his parents' gaze. An hour later, he squeaked in excitement, having successfully put together his outfit of the day.
A cropped black top, which his mother had called "scandalous," shimmered with gold constellation embroidery he'd added himself, painstakingly recreating the Draco constellation as best he could. Paired with it was a long deep blue coat draped over his shoulders, adorned with more gold embellishments. His black trousers flowed with layered blue panels, giving movement and drama to every step he took.
Draco twirled in front of his mirror, beaming with pride. His cropped top sat at the perfect length, teasing just enough skin and the curve of his hips. His father would faint if he saw him like this.
Draco giggled and returned to his wardrobe, hunting for more treasures to add. He selected jewellery, chains of celestial gold and black-gold belts, to elevate his already luxurious vibe.
Satisfied, he hit the road with a spring in his step. A caged son like him was eager to see where this sudden freedom would take him. Hopefully, dozens of cute photos for his social media!
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The spring sun welcomed him warmly, and thank god for his thin coat and the breeze—otherwise Draco would have been drenched in sweat by now. He'd bought iced coffee and fresh pastry from a small but cute cafe. Too bad it was far too crowded for Draco's liking. As much as he adored strangers' gazes, he wasn't in the mood to deal with onlookers in such a tiny space.
The map on his phone promised he'd reach the famous alley within minutes. Draco's gaze never strayed from the scenery—sunny London days were rare treasures, and he intended to savour every second. His phone, fully charged and practically vibrating with anticipation, was ready for the aesthetic haul he was about to collect. Travelling solo meant no one to hold the camera, but that only pushed him to be more inventive, to hunt down ledges, railings, and clever angles for the perfect self-taken photograph.
When he arrived, the buildings exploded in colour—electric blues, vibrant yellows, and flamingo pinks clashing beautifully again. Hanging baskets overflowed with trailing greenery, and bistro tables spilled out onto the cobblestones. Draco almost jumped with joy. Thank god for his parents' anniversary!
Draco was looking around, hungry for the perfect spot to film himself finishing his pastry against this beautiful backdrop. Suddenly, a running woman bumped into him, spilling his iced coffee all over both of them.
Draco gasped, watching his unfinished drink splatter onto the road below.
The woman scoffed at him. "Watch where you're going!"
Draco stared at her, the audacity! Who the fuck did she think she was?
"Listen here, you uncouth cow—" Draco's words cut off when another person appeared—a man with a furious expression stomping into his space.
"Come back here and talk to me!" the man shouted.
The woman cursed and yelled, "Stop following me, Harry! I don't have any feelings for you, I—" She paused, turned back to Draco, and declared: "I love him!"
Suddenly, she threw her arms around Draco's neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss, then shoved him into the other man and ran off. It all happened way too fast for Draco's shocked brain to react.
When Draco came to his senses, she had disappeared down another road.
"What the fuck," Draco said, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his coat.
"You! Who are you?" the man—Harry—growled at him, making Draco jump.
Draco spun around, coming face to face with the furious stranger. The man loomed over him, taller by a head, with a mess of curly hair like a nest, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and piercing green eyes. A jagged, lightning-bolt scar slashed across his forehead, ran through one of his dark eyebrows, which were currently scrunched together in a scowl.
For someone with no manners, this man was way too hot.
"Whoa," Draco said, raising both hands. "I don't know her at all!"
Harry's expression grew even darker. Looking down at Draco, his shoulders seemed to grow wider with his anger—or maybe that was just an illusion created by his black leather jacket with the red dragon motif.
Draco closed his eyes momentarily, collecting himself. "Look, man, I assure you. I—"
"Shut up!" Harry shouted. "Be a man and admit it!"
Draco sighed, taking a step back. "I'm telling you—"
"You stole my girl!" Harry accused, his jaw clenched. He would look sexy if he'd just stop yelling like a buffoon and use his brain.
Draco groaned, glancing down at the remains of his coffee. "Stole?" he asked, throwing Harry a glare. "Your girl? She literally ran from you, you blockhead! I don't even know her—she assaulted me to get away from you!"
For a second, Harry seemed taken aback by Draco's words, but then his stubborn angry face returned. "Shut your mouth!"
That was it. Draco had been in the middle of enjoying his long-awaited freedom, and yet his plans had to be hijacked by some ludicrous lover's spat. He yanked the man down by his shirt and yelled into his face: "I'm gay!"
"…What?" Harry asked, stunned.
Great. His ears apparently worked.
"Yes, so I didn't steal any girl!" Draco explained further.
Harry was silent, the wrinkles on his forehead fading. Sadly, his calmness didn't last long enough to help his brain understand Draco's innocence.
"Can't believe you'd use that trick! You coward!" Harry shouted, squeezing Draco's arm, glaring and showing his teeth like a wild animal.
Fuck it. Draco had already lost his iced coffee, and his pastry must have gone cold and hard by now. Not to mention his cropped top was sticking to his skin from the spilled coffee and his sweat. Draco let go of Harry's shirt and pulled him down by the back of his neck, smashing their faces together. Copying the girl, Draco gave this idiotic, sexy man a deep kiss.
The bridge of Draco's nose clashed into Harry's glasses as he stuck his tongue into Harry's open mouth. He made sure to make his statement clear by licking the roof of Harry's mouth and sucking his tongue as he slowly separated them.
"See?" Draco said, slightly panting. He noticed the string of saliva still clinging between them, so he pushed himself further back, returning his hands to his own sides, and watched the other man.
Harry was a living statue, to say the least—green eyes locked onto him, his face unreadable at first. Draco hoped his brain cells were finally working. But then Harry's face twitched, morphed into fury, his lips pulling back, ready to spit more nonsense. "You—"
Draco would not let him. He pulled Harry into him again, kissing him even more deeply this time. He took his time in Harry's mouth, hoping somehow to melt the enraged man down and push the gears in his head. However, Harry didn't sit back and take it anymore—he pushed his own tongue inside Draco's, grabbed Draco by the waist, and clashed their bodies closer, humming as he sucked Draco's tongue like a hungry man.
When Draco felt he could no longer breathe, he pushed Harry away. When that failed, he smacked the man. "S-stop, mmff!"
Harry chuckled, nibbling Draco's lips one last time before letting him go.
"Believe me now?" Draco asked, panting, wiping his mouth. He glared at Harry through teary eyes.
They just made out! What the hell!?
Harry stared at him, panting too. His green eyes no longer carried anger—they were calm. Both his hands were still glued to Draco's hips.
When seconds passed, Draco celebrated internally. His brain finally worked!
Draco smiled awkwardly, grabbing Harry's wrists to signal the man to let him go. "Great, I'll—"
But Harry's hands didn't budge. "No," Harry responded, his voice stern, stopping Draco from moving away. His grip on Draco's hips tightened. "I don't believe you just yet. One more time."
Draco's eyebrows shot up to the sky. His brain short-circuited.
What?!
Before he could get a word out, Harry pulled him by the hips into another make-out session.
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Saturday had passed to Monday noon, and Draco found himself waking up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. His body was sore, and he couldn't feel his legs. When he turned to the side, he came face to face with Harry's sleeping face. The man's hair was sprawling everywhere, and the mouth that had been spouting stupidity at Draco yesterday was now open and drooling.
Draco smacked him.
"Ouch!" Harry groaned, waking up. "Huh?" His green eyes opened and searched, and when they found Draco, his dumb face beamed. "Morning, beautiful."
Draco pulled a face. "Go brush your teeth."
Harry chuckled and gave him a peck. "Not a fan of mornings?"
"Not a fan of morning breath," Draco clarified, pushing his face away. "And I can't feel my legs! You beast!"
"I'm sorry," Harry laughed, sitting up. "Tea or coffee?" he asked as he stood at the side of the bed.
"Tea," Draco sighed, gazing at the naked man, racking his eyes over the tan, refined muscles, remembering how they'd flexed last night as the man groaned and thrust. Harry shattered Draco's daydream by walking away and giving him a thumbs up, looking utterly silly.
Draco laughed, then nuzzled into the pillow next to his, inhaling the lingering pine and cedarwood perfume. A deep fragrance that Draco wouldn't wear himself, and yet here he was, enjoying it as he committed it to memory.
He couldn't believe his outing yesterday had ended up in a stranger's bed. A stranger who had yelled at him, accused him of heterosexuality and infidelity. On top of that, they had also acted inappropriately in public!
What a crude decision for both of them!
Draco giggled into the pillows, finding no regret in himself. An equivalent exchange for his wasted iced coffee and thousands of Instagram-worthy photos. For someone quick to anger, Harry had been patient in following Draco's orders when they explored Neal's Yard and spent time around Covent Garden.
He was in the middle of recalling how they'd ended their day, coming home late in the evening to Harry's flat, when a familiar noise broke into his mind. Checking his phone in annoyance, Draco was greeted with multiple missed calls from both his father and mother.
"Ah, fuck! Nooooooo," Draco wailed. The maids must have informed them of his absence. The thought of explanations and excuses sent pain shooting through Draco's head. He groaned.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, entering the room with a smile and a tray of two glasses.
"My parents found out I didn't come home last night," Draco let out a heavy breath, taking his tea into his hands and sipping it. "I need to leave."
"Oh? I'll come with you. It's better to make a good first impression as soon as possible," Harry said, sitting on the bed next to Draco and sipping his own tea.
Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "First impression? For what?"
"Marriage?" Harry answered, smiling.
Draco froze. The gears in his brain stopped. Marriage? From a one-night stand? He'd never heard of that! None of his friends had ever told him this was a consequence?! Was this a normal progression of things?
"W-wait," Draco said, placing his glass on the nightstand, then staring at Harry. "What do you mean, marriage?"
Harry copied him, placing his own glass aside. "Exactly what it means," his mouth stretched into a grin. "Do you think I'll let you go after the stunt you pulled? Kissing me in such a busy street?"
"That was your fault! You wouldn't believe me!"
Harry shrugged. "I was wrong, I admit that. But it doesn't mean you can just kiss someone and run, right?"
Draco blinked, dumbfounded. "That girl! She started it!"
"Oh, right, I shouldn't have chased her like that. But she made a deal with me after I paid her."
"A deal?" Draco frowned. What kind of drama had he just got himself into?
"My parents pressed me to get married soon, so I made a deal with her to date and eventually become engaged in exchange for a life of luxury. But she just suddenly disappeared after taking my money."
Ah, shit. Draco had entered a telenovela.
"But thanks to her, I found you." Harry took Draco's hand. "Let's date with marriage in mind," he said, dropping a kiss on Draco's hand. His bare green eyes shone in the morning sun, reflecting sincerity and devotion.
Draco gulped, imagining what the girl must have felt. She had probably thought the deal would be easy, but facing such warmth and passion in those beautiful eyes must have scared her off.
Hah! What a fool!
Thanks to that, Draco could have this man to himself. An ungrateful, uncouth woman like her didn't deserve this sweet, slightly dumb, undeniably hot man. As much as the thought of marriage shocked him, Draco was willing to see where this decision could lead.
Draco nodded, and Harry pulled him into a deep kiss. Draco happily enjoyed it for a while until a question made him pull back. "You haven't told me your full name."
"Oh, right. You haven't either," Harry said, smiling, relaxing into the pillow.
"I'm Draco Malfoy."
"Harry Potter is my full name—wait, Malfoy?!" Harry shot up, gawking.
"You're a Potter?!" Draco gasped, hands covering his mouth.
Their jaws dropped, unable to say anything but: "Oh, fuck."
"My father will have an aneurysm," Draco said, pulling at his hair. He'd just fucked his family's mortal enemy!
Harry nodded. "My father won't take this calmly either."
Then they went silent, staring at each other. The understanding of how absurd the situation had become dawned on both of them.
Suddenly, their laughter exploded.
They were laughing, rolling around the bed, until they found each other again. They kissed, slow and soft, before staring into each other's eyes.
"I can't wait for our marriage," Harry murmured, kissing Draco's forehead.
Draco giggled. "Me too. Want me to announce our relationship on Instagram?"
"Great idea! Let's choose the photos together! You looked absolutely hot in that outfit!" Stretching his arm, Harry took Draco's phone, declining the incoming call to open the app.
"I'll post those photos later, but now let's post a Story*," Draco said, angling the front camera toward them and taking the photo: him smiling in Harry's arms as the man kissed the side of his face. Draco made sure to tag Harry's name clearly on the photo, clicked post, and threw away his phone.
Imagining both his parents' expressions, Draco cackled.
He couldn't believe his sudden freedom had not only brought him a new set of aesthetic photos but also a husband!
"Our marriage shall happen on Saturday," he murmured into Harry's neck, already imagining the colours for their ceremony theme.
Should he send that woman an invitation?
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