Draco pouts, and Charlie finds himself trying not to laugh. The look makes the twenty year old look absolutely childish, and it's precious to him.
"Come on, Draco," Charlie sighs, putting on his best serious face. "It won't kill you to come to Ron's wedding. You're my date, after all."
The younger man glares, giving a shrug of his shoulders. "It might."
Eyes rolling, Charlie bends down, pecking Draco on the lips. Draco leans up, trying to catch Charlie as he pulls away.
"You can have another, better kiss after the wedding," Charlie tells him with a smirk.
"I'm a Malfoy. Malfoys do not respond to bribes," Draco says sharply.
Charlie laughs, pushing a hand through his shaggy hair and ruffling the ginger strands. "Unless they're the ones making the bribes," he teases.
Draco doesn't respond. Instead, he leans up, trying to sneak a kiss, but Charlie, having height as an advantage, grips his shoulders and keeps him at a distance. After a moment of squirming frantically, Draco falls slack with a defeated groan. "Fine. I'll go."
With a victorious grin, Charlie cranes his neck, kissing his lover's forehead. "I thought you might."
"Bastard."
"I love you, too."