A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Also… blame Amber for the pairing :P
Word Count: 607
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.
Unbeta'd. Sorry :/
Squib!au
Enjoy!
Draco took along sip from his coffee, shuddering at the heat. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his blond hair was unkempt, which was uncharacteristic of him. Still, he had an appointment to keep, and he wasn't going to miss it because of sleep deprivation.
It wasn't everyday his lover was off work, after all.
Draco ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. His schedule didn't seem to coincide with Vernon's at all lately, but they were trying. It was better than nothing, and if there was anything the older man understood, it was the importance of work. Draco was grateful to him for that.
He smiled a little to himself at the thought of Vernon. He was twenty-two years Draco's senior, but that hadn't stopped them the two of them from hitting it off. Draco had met him a year ago at a bar he'd been working at then. Vernon had come in and ordered his drink, then gruffly told Draco he looked like he could use one himself.
Draco hadn't thought much of it at the time, but Vernon bought him one at the end of his shift and then just… let him be. It was a completely random act of kindness that he later learned was rare for the older man, but one thing led to another, and… there they were.
The bell above the shop door rang, ripping Draco from his musings. He looked up and, upon spotting the figure in the doorway, smiled.
Vernon made his way over and sat in the chair across from Draco, accepting the cup of coffee the younger man handed him. Vernon's eyes squinted slightly as he took in the thirty-year-old Squb.
"What's wrong?"
Draco smiled, but it was strained. "Just lost in thought. It's been a long day," he added.
Vernon nodded slowly. He took a sip of his drink, his large hands dwarfing the cup. His voice was much softer than usual when he said, "Did you get another one of those ruddy letters?"
Draco winced. Though he'd been kicked out of the Malfoy family home when he turned seventeen, he tried to keep up correspondence with his parents. Sometimes they responded, but never without a scathing remark.
A Squib, after all, was worthless in their eyes. Worthless, shameful, and every other adjective in between. Draco had believed it, too, until he'd gotten to know Vernon. The other man helped him to realize that the thing that his family called mundane was the very thing that made him so special. After all, the majority of the world was made up of Muggles—wizards were the abnormal ones.
It was the same reason that led his parents to think that pureblood wizards were more superior to Muggleborns, after all.
And he had received a letter today. All it did was remind him of all that he'd lost.
Suddenly, Vernon's hand was on his own. "Your parents are fools to keep turning you away. Look at you." He gestured to Draco so enthusiastically that a couple strands of steely grey hair fell over his forehead. "You're successful in your job, you've proven yourself independent in the real world… you've made it. And anyone who says differently can bloody well—"
Draco leaned over the table and silenced him with a quick kiss. "I get the picture," he murmured. "Thank you."
Vernon's mustache quirked up a bit when he smiled, and he gave Draco a rough nod.
Vernon wasn't the best at expressing affection—neither was Draco—but it shone clearly in his eyes.
And in this complicated, troubled world, Draco was glad that he'd found his normalcy.