SUMMARY: Fluffy, sappy, stupid, pointless. READ it!
WARNING: err…alright, this is male/male slash. Really mild slash, but still. If you don't like that, get outta here!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hugs and kisses to my BETA-reader bondagechic. You rock!
London Wedding
*
It wasn't that much of a shock after all.
Sunlight filtered through white curtains, leaving the man that lay in the midst of messy covers and pillows bathing in a golden sea. It was a warm morning, Seamus felt it with every fibre of his half-awake body. Suddenly, he heard something hitting the floor in one of the other rooms of his London apartment.
"Aarghh!" Someone yelped, barely audible through the thick layer of cotton Seamus was draped in. Still, he lifted his head, blinking into the unpleasant brightness.
"What's wrong?" He asked, loud enough to make Dean come into their bedroom.
"It bloody better be something important," Seamus added, falling back into the pillows.
As an answer, his lover let something fall onto the bed. Seamus picked it up, recognizing a plain white
piece of paper. Disbelieving, he stared at it.
"Whussat?" he managed, eyeing Dean up and down as if he had gone mad. "The reason you wake me up at 9 on a Sunday morning? Not very convincing."
With that, he slumped back into the warmth of his bed, again.
"It's a letter, you idiot." Dean said, as if that was explaining everything. He snatched it away from Seamus' sleepy sight. "Dear Mr. Thomas," he read out loud. "We'd like to invite you to-"
"Invite?" All of a sudden, Seamus was wide awake. "Let me see." He tried to whip the letter out of Dean's hand, but the dark-skinned man didn't let go.
"C'mon," Seamus pleaded, trying his best puppy-dog eyes, only to then be harshly and unexpectedly kissed by Dean. Seconds later, they parted, both panting breathlessly. But this short moment of distraction was enough for the Irishman. He made one last attempt at the letter, succeeding gloriously. Seconds later, Seamus stood at the other end of the bed, the crucial paper in his hands.
He quickly browsed through the few lines the letter contained. Then he suddenly gasped. "-the wedding of HARRY JAMES POTTER AND DRACO MALFOY?" He nearly shouted. "Excuse me, but THE WEDDING?!"
"I know," Dean nodded understandingly.
"Alright," Seamus began, sitting down. "Let me get things straight- well, not exactly straight, but--they being together, fine. We can deal with it. But marriage? Hello? Like, with flowers and parents and a honeymoon in Hawaii?"
Seamus had a point there, Dean had to admit it. "And later on, how do they picture it, with a house and a white picket fence, and, fuck it, CHILDREN?" He raged on, practically spitting out the last word.
"Is it just me or are they going a bit too fast into the old-and-boring direction?"
"Well," Dean piped in, but Seamus had only started.
"I, on my behalf, haven't planned to end up like my parents before I turn forty."
Dean softly took the scandalous message out of Seamus reach. "God, Seamus, it's just a wedding. Not a funeral!"
"Depends on how you see it," the Irishman mumbled, burying his head deep into his pillow.
*
The phone rang in the middle of a glorious fight battle. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, was facing an enormous army of Death Eaters. Just him, his wand, and--The phone rang again. Harry moaned,
slowly waking out of his dream scenario. Fuck. He sure as hell would've won. He always did.
Grabbing blindly into a huge pile of clothes, he made out the reason for his rude awakening.
"Hello?" he mumbled groggily, rubbing his eyes.
"Harry?" Someone said with a thick Irish accent. He instantly knew who it was. "Seamus?" he asked, not believing it. "Is that you?"
"The one and only," Seamus answered, happy that the ice was broken. "So, you're marrying, huh?"
He winced as Dean was elbowing him because of that rather blunt opening. 'What?' Seamus mouthed into his lover's direction, waiting for Harry's answer.
"Looks like it," Harry replied, glancing at Draco who was peacefully sleeping by his side.
"Wow," Seamus made ['said' or 'hesitated' instead of 'made'], not knowing what to say. "That's rather….I dunno….. fast?"
Harry grinned inwardly. "Yeah, you're right. Since Draco and I have only known each other for, let's see, 14 years."
"The first four don't count." Seamus shot back, silently giving in to Harry's logic.
"Is that a 'yes we'd love to come' buried under there?" Harry asked tauntingly, while tracing soft patterns on Draco's alabaster skin.
Seamus, giving Dean the evil eye, sighed. "Sure."
After having dropped the phone back into the chaos that spread itself through the whole bedroom, Harry lay down again.
"Morning, gorgeous," Draco mumbled, sensing Harry's warmth coming back to him again.
"Morning," Harry said lightly, pushing silver-blonde hair off his lover's forehead. "That was Seamus."
"Seamus?" Draco muttered into the pillows. "As in Seamus Finnigan? The Gryffindor?"
Harry draped himself around Draco's slim body. "Do you know any other Seamus?" He teased, then suddenly became serious. "You don't, do you?"
A smile crept onto Draco's face. "No," he answered, turning around to face Harry. "Are they coming?"
"Who?" Harry asked distractedly, beginning to kiss Draco's jaw line.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Seamus and Dean," he answered, allowing a moan to escape his lips.
"Oh." Harry was now working his way down to Draco's night-blue boxers. "Yeah."
"Good." Draco breathed, meaning it more than in just one sense.
*
"How do I look?" Hermione asked for the umpteenth time, turning in front of
the mirror.
"Great." Ron replied, fiddling with his tie.
"Ron." Hermione started, shaking her head. "I'm dressed up as a pink fluff ball, all satin and tulle. And you say I look *great*? I look like I swallowed a sofa!"
"C'mon, Herm," her boyfriend answered, finally managing to bring his tie into the right shape. "Don't get the wedding jitters instead of Harry."
The brown-haired girl went into the kitchen, taking a sip from a water glass. "But it seems like I have to," she said, looking adorably desperate. "It just *has* to be perfect. Alright, let's check again: band: called, flowers: arranged, food: ready to be eaten, champagne:--"
Ron sighed, stopping her by simply covering her mouth with his hand. "I knew it was a bad idea, you organizing their wedding," he mumbled, staring into the mirror and directly into Hermione's eyes. "You hardly slept last night."
Hermione protested silently, removing her lover's hand. "I did….sleep. I just had to go through-"
"-the entire guest list." Ron finished, smiling. "I know. Just relax. Everything will work out. Okay?"
Hermione breathed slowly in and out. "Right." She said. "Right."
*
The church was already packed-full, when Seamus' black convertible pulled into the parking lot.
"God, we're late," Dean groaned, smoothing his tuxedo. "Late to a wedding."
"Yeah, and it's all my fault," Seamus called back, hopping out of his car. "Rub it in."
"That's what I'm here for," Dean replied good-humoured, taking his boyfriend's hand and pulling him closer. "And damn you for making me sneak into a church full of people."
Seamus grinned broadly, placing a kiss on Dean's lips, shortly before they reached the wooden church doors. "That's what *I* am here for."
"You may now-" the priest was just saying, when a shrieking sound from the back of the church cut into the silence.
Seamus stuck his head through the small gap, smiling apologetically; then he quickly slipped into one of the benches, dragging his boyfriend behind him. Dean went as red as dark-skinned people can get and sat next to Seamus.
Thankfully, the attention was again on Draco and Harry, who happened to kiss each other the second Dean and Seamus looked up to the altar.
Everyone clapped and stood up, and Dean recognized Hermione standing with the bridesmaids, looking as happy as he had never seen her before.
Something rose in him then, and he quickly grabbed Seamus, kissing him thoroughly. Seamus first struggled against the sudden touch, then relaxed against his lover, his tongue darting out to meet his boyfriend's.
Someone cleared his throat. Seamus pulled away. "Ron," he said, somewhat surprised.
"Hey," Ron answered, grinning at Dean. "How ya doing?"
Seamus cocked an eyebrow at him. "Great. You?"
"Oh, alright." Ron declared light-heartedly. "My best friend just married my/his archenemy, but, apart from that, I'm peachy."
"Ron," Hermione warned, touching Ron's hand ever so slightly.
"Just kidding, Hermione," he grinned, squeezing her hand.
*
"So you're together, then, are you?" Seamus asked, munching on a huge lump of bread.
Ron nearly choked on his drink. "*Seamus*!"
Dean too tried to look shocked, but soon enough he cracked up, grabbing at the table for support.
"C'mon, Ron," he gasped between catching his breath and laughing. "You're not fucking thirteen anymore. You can bloody well admit it."
Ron didn't look very amused, glancing up and down the long table where all the guests were seated, eating and laughing; no one offering him a welcome distraction.
"Yeah, well…yeah." He managed, getting bright-red, his face just matching his hair colour.
"What?" At that moment, Harry leaned over Hermione's shoulder.
"Hermione and Ron, Hermione and Ron," Seamus sing-sang in a stupid voice, causing Ron to blush even more.
"Oh, stop it, Seamus," Hermione scolded in, trying to sound angry and failing miserably.
As if on cue, music started to fill the room.
"Wanna dance?" Ron asked, gladly taking the opportunity to escape the embarrassing situation.
"I'd love to," Hermione replied in a deep voice, making Seamus go all 'ohhh' in the background.
They joined the other couples on the dance floor, their feet barely touching the ground.
"C'mon, you," Dean said to Seamus, pulling him in the same direction.
*
"Are you happy?" Draco casually leaned against the wall, a wine glass in one hand, his grey eyes glimmering in the dazzling light that surrounded them.
"As hell." Harry whispered, leaning forward, touching his husband's lips feather-lightly.
"Me too," Draco mumbled against the dark-haired man's mouth, capturing it in a deep kiss.
Their tongues met, one sliding against the other, caressing and fighting. It was all they had ever needed.
Harry firmly pressed himself against Draco's body, thrusting his hips forward.
Draco moaned, the sound coming from deep within. Harry started to kiss his throat, slowly making his way down his neck.
"Alright," Draco breathed, cupping Harry's chin, forcing him to look into the dark depths of his eyes. "You wanna go somewhere?"
Harry simply nodded, following Draco to one of the small storage rooms, that the restaurant they were celebrating in had plenty.
Pushing the door open, they stumbled into it, only to see that Seamus and Dean already occupied it.
"Uh, hey," Seamus said, straightening up. "Having a, ah, good time?"
Draco just watched Dean pulling up his pants. "Same as you," he jeered, a crooked smile spreading over his features. "Obviously."
*
THE END
WARNING: err…alright, this is male/male slash. Really mild slash, but still. If you don't like that, get outta here!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hugs and kisses to my BETA-reader bondagechic. You rock!
London Wedding
*
It wasn't that much of a shock after all.
Sunlight filtered through white curtains, leaving the man that lay in the midst of messy covers and pillows bathing in a golden sea. It was a warm morning, Seamus felt it with every fibre of his half-awake body. Suddenly, he heard something hitting the floor in one of the other rooms of his London apartment.
"Aarghh!" Someone yelped, barely audible through the thick layer of cotton Seamus was draped in. Still, he lifted his head, blinking into the unpleasant brightness.
"What's wrong?" He asked, loud enough to make Dean come into their bedroom.
"It bloody better be something important," Seamus added, falling back into the pillows.
As an answer, his lover let something fall onto the bed. Seamus picked it up, recognizing a plain white
piece of paper. Disbelieving, he stared at it.
"Whussat?" he managed, eyeing Dean up and down as if he had gone mad. "The reason you wake me up at 9 on a Sunday morning? Not very convincing."
With that, he slumped back into the warmth of his bed, again.
"It's a letter, you idiot." Dean said, as if that was explaining everything. He snatched it away from Seamus' sleepy sight. "Dear Mr. Thomas," he read out loud. "We'd like to invite you to-"
"Invite?" All of a sudden, Seamus was wide awake. "Let me see." He tried to whip the letter out of Dean's hand, but the dark-skinned man didn't let go.
"C'mon," Seamus pleaded, trying his best puppy-dog eyes, only to then be harshly and unexpectedly kissed by Dean. Seconds later, they parted, both panting breathlessly. But this short moment of distraction was enough for the Irishman. He made one last attempt at the letter, succeeding gloriously. Seconds later, Seamus stood at the other end of the bed, the crucial paper in his hands.
He quickly browsed through the few lines the letter contained. Then he suddenly gasped. "-the wedding of HARRY JAMES POTTER AND DRACO MALFOY?" He nearly shouted. "Excuse me, but THE WEDDING?!"
"I know," Dean nodded understandingly.
"Alright," Seamus began, sitting down. "Let me get things straight- well, not exactly straight, but--they being together, fine. We can deal with it. But marriage? Hello? Like, with flowers and parents and a honeymoon in Hawaii?"
Seamus had a point there, Dean had to admit it. "And later on, how do they picture it, with a house and a white picket fence, and, fuck it, CHILDREN?" He raged on, practically spitting out the last word.
"Is it just me or are they going a bit too fast into the old-and-boring direction?"
"Well," Dean piped in, but Seamus had only started.
"I, on my behalf, haven't planned to end up like my parents before I turn forty."
Dean softly took the scandalous message out of Seamus reach. "God, Seamus, it's just a wedding. Not a funeral!"
"Depends on how you see it," the Irishman mumbled, burying his head deep into his pillow.
*
The phone rang in the middle of a glorious fight battle. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, was facing an enormous army of Death Eaters. Just him, his wand, and--The phone rang again. Harry moaned,
slowly waking out of his dream scenario. Fuck. He sure as hell would've won. He always did.
Grabbing blindly into a huge pile of clothes, he made out the reason for his rude awakening.
"Hello?" he mumbled groggily, rubbing his eyes.
"Harry?" Someone said with a thick Irish accent. He instantly knew who it was. "Seamus?" he asked, not believing it. "Is that you?"
"The one and only," Seamus answered, happy that the ice was broken. "So, you're marrying, huh?"
He winced as Dean was elbowing him because of that rather blunt opening. 'What?' Seamus mouthed into his lover's direction, waiting for Harry's answer.
"Looks like it," Harry replied, glancing at Draco who was peacefully sleeping by his side.
"Wow," Seamus made ['said' or 'hesitated' instead of 'made'], not knowing what to say. "That's rather….I dunno….. fast?"
Harry grinned inwardly. "Yeah, you're right. Since Draco and I have only known each other for, let's see, 14 years."
"The first four don't count." Seamus shot back, silently giving in to Harry's logic.
"Is that a 'yes we'd love to come' buried under there?" Harry asked tauntingly, while tracing soft patterns on Draco's alabaster skin.
Seamus, giving Dean the evil eye, sighed. "Sure."
After having dropped the phone back into the chaos that spread itself through the whole bedroom, Harry lay down again.
"Morning, gorgeous," Draco mumbled, sensing Harry's warmth coming back to him again.
"Morning," Harry said lightly, pushing silver-blonde hair off his lover's forehead. "That was Seamus."
"Seamus?" Draco muttered into the pillows. "As in Seamus Finnigan? The Gryffindor?"
Harry draped himself around Draco's slim body. "Do you know any other Seamus?" He teased, then suddenly became serious. "You don't, do you?"
A smile crept onto Draco's face. "No," he answered, turning around to face Harry. "Are they coming?"
"Who?" Harry asked distractedly, beginning to kiss Draco's jaw line.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Seamus and Dean," he answered, allowing a moan to escape his lips.
"Oh." Harry was now working his way down to Draco's night-blue boxers. "Yeah."
"Good." Draco breathed, meaning it more than in just one sense.
*
"How do I look?" Hermione asked for the umpteenth time, turning in front of
the mirror.
"Great." Ron replied, fiddling with his tie.
"Ron." Hermione started, shaking her head. "I'm dressed up as a pink fluff ball, all satin and tulle. And you say I look *great*? I look like I swallowed a sofa!"
"C'mon, Herm," her boyfriend answered, finally managing to bring his tie into the right shape. "Don't get the wedding jitters instead of Harry."
The brown-haired girl went into the kitchen, taking a sip from a water glass. "But it seems like I have to," she said, looking adorably desperate. "It just *has* to be perfect. Alright, let's check again: band: called, flowers: arranged, food: ready to be eaten, champagne:--"
Ron sighed, stopping her by simply covering her mouth with his hand. "I knew it was a bad idea, you organizing their wedding," he mumbled, staring into the mirror and directly into Hermione's eyes. "You hardly slept last night."
Hermione protested silently, removing her lover's hand. "I did….sleep. I just had to go through-"
"-the entire guest list." Ron finished, smiling. "I know. Just relax. Everything will work out. Okay?"
Hermione breathed slowly in and out. "Right." She said. "Right."
*
The church was already packed-full, when Seamus' black convertible pulled into the parking lot.
"God, we're late," Dean groaned, smoothing his tuxedo. "Late to a wedding."
"Yeah, and it's all my fault," Seamus called back, hopping out of his car. "Rub it in."
"That's what I'm here for," Dean replied good-humoured, taking his boyfriend's hand and pulling him closer. "And damn you for making me sneak into a church full of people."
Seamus grinned broadly, placing a kiss on Dean's lips, shortly before they reached the wooden church doors. "That's what *I* am here for."
"You may now-" the priest was just saying, when a shrieking sound from the back of the church cut into the silence.
Seamus stuck his head through the small gap, smiling apologetically; then he quickly slipped into one of the benches, dragging his boyfriend behind him. Dean went as red as dark-skinned people can get and sat next to Seamus.
Thankfully, the attention was again on Draco and Harry, who happened to kiss each other the second Dean and Seamus looked up to the altar.
Everyone clapped and stood up, and Dean recognized Hermione standing with the bridesmaids, looking as happy as he had never seen her before.
Something rose in him then, and he quickly grabbed Seamus, kissing him thoroughly. Seamus first struggled against the sudden touch, then relaxed against his lover, his tongue darting out to meet his boyfriend's.
Someone cleared his throat. Seamus pulled away. "Ron," he said, somewhat surprised.
"Hey," Ron answered, grinning at Dean. "How ya doing?"
Seamus cocked an eyebrow at him. "Great. You?"
"Oh, alright." Ron declared light-heartedly. "My best friend just married my/his archenemy, but, apart from that, I'm peachy."
"Ron," Hermione warned, touching Ron's hand ever so slightly.
"Just kidding, Hermione," he grinned, squeezing her hand.
*
"So you're together, then, are you?" Seamus asked, munching on a huge lump of bread.
Ron nearly choked on his drink. "*Seamus*!"
Dean too tried to look shocked, but soon enough he cracked up, grabbing at the table for support.
"C'mon, Ron," he gasped between catching his breath and laughing. "You're not fucking thirteen anymore. You can bloody well admit it."
Ron didn't look very amused, glancing up and down the long table where all the guests were seated, eating and laughing; no one offering him a welcome distraction.
"Yeah, well…yeah." He managed, getting bright-red, his face just matching his hair colour.
"What?" At that moment, Harry leaned over Hermione's shoulder.
"Hermione and Ron, Hermione and Ron," Seamus sing-sang in a stupid voice, causing Ron to blush even more.
"Oh, stop it, Seamus," Hermione scolded in, trying to sound angry and failing miserably.
As if on cue, music started to fill the room.
"Wanna dance?" Ron asked, gladly taking the opportunity to escape the embarrassing situation.
"I'd love to," Hermione replied in a deep voice, making Seamus go all 'ohhh' in the background.
They joined the other couples on the dance floor, their feet barely touching the ground.
"C'mon, you," Dean said to Seamus, pulling him in the same direction.
*
"Are you happy?" Draco casually leaned against the wall, a wine glass in one hand, his grey eyes glimmering in the dazzling light that surrounded them.
"As hell." Harry whispered, leaning forward, touching his husband's lips feather-lightly.
"Me too," Draco mumbled against the dark-haired man's mouth, capturing it in a deep kiss.
Their tongues met, one sliding against the other, caressing and fighting. It was all they had ever needed.
Harry firmly pressed himself against Draco's body, thrusting his hips forward.
Draco moaned, the sound coming from deep within. Harry started to kiss his throat, slowly making his way down his neck.
"Alright," Draco breathed, cupping Harry's chin, forcing him to look into the dark depths of his eyes. "You wanna go somewhere?"
Harry simply nodded, following Draco to one of the small storage rooms, that the restaurant they were celebrating in had plenty.
Pushing the door open, they stumbled into it, only to see that Seamus and Dean already occupied it.
"Uh, hey," Seamus said, straightening up. "Having a, ah, good time?"
Draco just watched Dean pulling up his pants. "Same as you," he jeered, a crooked smile spreading over his features. "Obviously."
*
THE END