TITLE:
We Got Married, Baby!

 RATING:
NC-17

 SUMMARY:
Draco wasn’t drunk – Malfoys don’t get pissed. So, why does he have a pounding headache, roiling stomach, and brand new shiny band on his ring finger?
 

 WARNINGS:
Sexual content, rimming, adult language, fluff, romance, humour, intoxication, drunk!Draco

 WORDS:
7,293

This is my thank you gift to Patricia, for drawing the beautiful artwork of scenes from my fics. She requested romance and smut. Thank you so much again, Patricia!

* * * * *

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta, Jadzia7667

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. JKR owns everything.

Draco Malfoy pried his eyes open – literally, with his fingers – and groaned. The room was spinning and he was lying… somewhere. He couldn’t quite figure out where, but he was definitely horizontal somewhere. “Unghh…” was the only syllable he could manage to form. He turned his head and found an explosion of red and white something blurred to the point that he couldn’t make out what it was. He opened and closed his mouth a few times in an attempt to rid himself of the feeling that something rough and furry had crawled in there and died. A light draught also notified him to the fact that he was naked from the waist down and his arse was stinging uncomfortably. Must’ve been a hell of a night.

Draco rolled onto his side and barely managed to get himself up onto all fours before he fell back into a messy heap, banging his head on the polished wooden floor in the process. “F’kin ‘ell,” he moaned. Opening his eyes again, he found himself face-to-face with an empty bottle of some sort of amber liquid. A brief sniff confirmed in was thankfully not urine. “Hangover…” he decided must be his problem before his stomach lurched in agreement. He whimpered as he pulled himself along the floor in a slow crawl. Now if only he could figure out where the fuck he was so he may have a chance of discovering where a Hangover Potion of any sort may be located. Soon.

Finally reaching a wall, Draco pulled himself up and swayed dangerously. He managed a couple of unsteady steps before his legs gave out, but he was caught by a pair of strong arms.

“Awake, are we?” a deep, amused voice queried. Draco blinked a few times to try and clear his aching, throbbing head.

“Harry,” Draco whimpered, dropping his forehead onto his boyfriend’s shoulders and clutching desperately at the front of Harry’s shirt. Harry would have Hangover Potion.

“What’s the last thing you remember about last night?” Harry asked. He led Draco carefully over to the bed of their beach cabin and eased him down onto the edge. He grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around Draco’s waist to cover his exposed and sensitive private parts.  

“Last night?” Draco asked feebly.  

“Well, that answers my question,” Harry laughed. “I knew it.” He held his left hand in front of Draco’s face. “Ring any bells?”

Draco gazed blankly at the shiny, thick band on Harry’s ring finger and then turned to Harry and blinked again. “Who gave you that?” he asked dumbly. 

“I got it from the same place you got that.” Harry picked up Draco’s own left hand and fingered the identical platinum band on Draco’s long finger.

“They came in a pair?” Draco rubbed his eyes, hoping it would help his brain work. Why was Harry playing games with him when he had an arse of a hangover? He was never good at riddles, so this was just cruel.

“Traditionally, yes,” Harry smirked. 

“Uh,” Draco mumbled thickly.

“We got married, baby!” Harry cried, causing Draco to wince and drop his head into his hand.

“M… married?” Draco whimpered, peering between his splayed fingers at the ring, which flashed tauntingly in the fluorescent light.

“Yep!!” Harry grinned, grabbing something from nearby by and tossing it in Draco’s lap. The room spun as Draco glanced down at the wedding bouquet of roses in his lap.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Draco stated before he puked forcefully all over his own feet and fainted heavily back onto the bed.

FLASHBACK: THE DAY BEFORE

 It was Valentine’s Day, and Draco had whisked Harry away to some secluded island that Harry didn’t even catch the name of. They had proceeded to spend the day lying on a deserted beach Draco had hired just for them with their own private staff, drinking cocktails, swimming naked in the clear blue water, and making love on the soft white sand. It had been an amazing day.

As the hottest part of the day had passed, they retired back to their beach cabin right on the edge of the sand. Much to Draco’s satisfaction, waiting for them was a large platter of fresh fruit and some chilled bottles of pink champagne. Loads of red and white balloons and roses were scattered around the room, just as arranged. Harry was pleasantly shocked, and immediately thanked Draco with a spontaneous blow job on their balcony. After that, they had cuddled together on a sun lounge, feeding each other the fruit and sipping the sweet champagne.

The relaxing surroundings, coupled with the warmth from the afternoon sun had eventually engulfed Harry and he had fallen asleep lying in between Draco’s legs with his head on Draco’s stomach.

Harry woke to the feeling of his back being stroked softly. He stretched slightly and peered up to find Draco gazing down at him with a contented smile on his face. Draco took a delicate sip from his flute and continued stroking Harry’s back with his other hand. He was the picture of calm elegance.

“You look beautiful when you sleep,” Draco commented dreamily, reaching to pick up another grape from the platter, but fumbled and dropped it on the floor. “Oops,” he laughed, which turned into a snort.

“Um, Draco love, are you pissed?” Harry asked in amusement, pulling himself up into a sitting position.

“I am pleasantly tipsy,” Draco corrected. “I don’t get pissed.” He reached over and plucked Harry’s champagne glass from cart which was filled to the brim with bubbly pink liquid. He handed it to Harry and then swiped a plump, juicy strawberry from the dish, dipped it in some melted chocolate and held it to Harry’s lips.

Harry bit the end off the sweet fruit and savoured the taste on his tongue. “Mmmm,” he murmured in pleasure. “Lovely. I’m surprised there are still some left.”

“Of course I would save some for my beloved,” Draco purred, starting to slur a little as he had a long gulp from his glass. Harry suspected Draco was rapidly progressing from ‘pleasantly tipsy’ to ‘mind-numbingly intoxicated’. “But that’s just because I get a hard-on watching you eat them.”

Harry gaped as the almost full glass of champagne disappeared down Draco’s throat in one deep drink. Draco covered his mouth politely and even managed to burp elegantly, despite his rapidly deteriorating sobriety. Harry wondered how long Draco could hold his composure. He didn’t often see his boyfriend drunk, but when he was, Draco definitely lost his inhibitions. “Maybe we should go and get some dinner in the village? I think some fresh air will do us good,” Harry suggested.

“All right,” Draco agreed. He stepped off the lounge to go get some clothes and stumbled, managing to grab the door frame and remain upright. He started giggling uncharacteristically and Harry smirked. “Whoops!” Draco giggled again and then pulled himself together.

They managed to get dressed and freshened up with Draco only tripping over his own feet one more time (even though he blamed the bathroom rug and firmly insisted that he wasn’t pissed). Harry caught Draco swigging the last of the champagne while he was brushing his hair.

As they wandered casually into the busy tropical village, it would have been difficult for anyone to spot that Draco was intoxicated. He was his usual refined self, save for the occasional giggle fits, and scrambling to grab Harry’s arm when he lost his balance. Harry was finding it very difficult to stifle his amusement, but he knew Draco would just get defensive if he laughed at him.

“So, what do you feel like for dinner, sweetheart?” Harry asked, watching as Draco’s eyes wandered to the displays in the window of a jewellery shop they passed.

Draco grabbed Harry and pressed him up against the jewellery store window. “You,” he growled, leaning in to give Harry a lingering kiss.

Harry laughed. “I think something a little more substantial is called for to soak up all that booze in your system,” he stated with a cheeky grin.

“I’m not drunk,” Draco insisted.

“I never said you were,” Harry replied lightly. “What are we eating, then?”

Draco cocked his head, and spotted a tiny, intimate restaurant across the street. “Seafood,” he decided.

Harry screwed up his nose. “Ew, no.” He shook his head vehemently. “Last time I ate seafood I spent all night on the toilet. Please don’t torture me with it! Just the thought makes my stomach lurch. Something that isn’t a laxative on a plate, please.”

“All right, all right!” Draco smirked and threw up his hands. “Your choice. I’ll go anywhere so long as they have wine,” he went back to looking at the jewellery in the window, “and something chocolatey for dessert. Oh, and your company, of course.”  

Harry snorted. “You have your priorities right, don’t you?” Draco shrugged and made a dismissive noise. “What are you looking at?”

“Sex aids,” Draco replied sarcastically. “What do you think I’m looking at?”

“Bloody hell, Draco, you have enough jewellery,” Harry whined. “Can we get dinner now? I’m absolutely starving!”

“What if I was looking to buy something for you?” Draco said with a shrug. “I’m entitled to buy you gifts.”

“I know, love,” Harry said with a grin. “But your gifts to me are usually along the lines of leather pants, g-strings with zippers up the front, and Superman costumes.”

“You look sexy in lycra,” Draco insisted. “Those blue tights had me shooting in my pants.”

“Among other places,” Harry said smugly.  “Please can we eat?”

Draco pointed to an Italian restaurant up the street. “Go and order us a table. I’ll catch up to you,” he said, pushing the door to the jewellery store open.

“I won’t wear jewellery!” Harry protested, and Draco just gave him a bland look before directing his gaze pointedly to the restaurant. Harry huffed and gave Draco one last pleading look before Draco disappeared into the shop.

* * * * *

Harry was sulkily stabbing at the ice in his glass with his little umbrella when Draco finally made his way into the restaurant. His blond boyfriend didn’t appear to have bought anything from the jewellery shop, despite being AWOL for close to half an hour. He was, however, sucking eagerly from a bottle of… something.

Harry squinted and the bottle in Draco’s hand as Draco flopped down unsteadily into the chair across from him. “What are you drinking?” he asked incredulously.

Draco gazed around the restaurant and screwed his nose up at the tacky décor. “I don’t really know, but it’s nice,” he said with a shrug. “Some local beer, I think.”

“Beer?!” Harry scoffed. “Draco Malfoy is drinking beer? Hang on, let me take a picture!” Draco responded by taking another swig of his drink. “So, what did you buy from the jewellery store?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Draco purred cryptically. “I’m not hungry. Let’s walk down to that great little bar down the street.”

“It’s irrelevant that I happen to be starving, is it? I’ve been sitting here for half an hour waiting for you to drag your arse back to me. You can wait while I have dinner,” Harry said, snatching up the menu, but Draco plucked it back out of his fingers.

“There’s food at the bar. I might want to grope you under the table, and I can’t very well do that here,” Draco sneered, screwing his nose up at the people at the surrounding tables. Harry’s eyes travelled over to the family of six seated a few feet away and had to reluctantly agree with Draco – the place wasn’t very intimate, and it was Valentine’s Day.

“Not that it’s ever stopped you before, but all right,” Harry replied, sucking down the last of his spritzer. He took Draco’s hand and let him pull him up. Draco slapped some money onto the table to pay for Harry’s drink, along with a rather generous tip before they left the restaurant.

The sun was almost completely set as they walked down the small street. It was hot and humid, but still managed to be pleasant, and it looked as though it was going to be a full moon that night.

Draco hummed dreamily, and was almost skipping as they walked. Harry watched him in awe, smiling, but completely baffled by Draco’s behaviour. “You know, baby,” Draco murmured, stopping to pluck a little daisy from a flower box out the front of a café. He handed it to Harry with a goofy grin. “I think I might be just a wee bit drunk,” he admitted, holding his thumb and forefinger about a centimetre apart to prove his point and started giggling.

“Really, love? Just a wee bit?” Harry asked in amusement. He was feeling ‘pleasantly tipsy’ himself now that the champagne had time to infiltrate his system.  

“Mmm,” Draco hummed. “But just a little bit, mind you. Malfoys don’t get drunk…”

“Of course not,” Harry said patronisingly, knowing Draco wouldn’t pick up on it.

“S’a nice night, hey?” Draco asked, leaning back to gaze up at the sky, swaying a little. Harry held him upright around the waist. He grinned, remembering that Draco’s speech generally became more common when he was drunk, for some reason. It had been so long since he had last seen his boyfriend like this that Harry hated to admit it was a nice treat seeing Draco let his guard down. As much as he loved his elegant sophisticated Draco, drunk, common, and dreamy Draco was always good for a chuckle.

“Beautiful,” Harry replied softly, smiling serenely.

Draco’s grey eyes shifted to Harry, as he grabbed his hands. “Marry me?” he asked, gazing deeply into Harry’s eyes.

“What?” Harry whispered. “No, Draco, this is just the drink talking.” He tried to pull away, but Draco held onto his hands firmly.

“I don’t care if it is!” Draco declared with a wide, soppy smile. “Marry me, Harry!”

“Is this what you went into the jewellery store for?” Harry asked in confusion, trying to stall for some time.

“Huh?” Draco said stupidly. “Nah! I only went in there to throw you off. I really went to the liquor store next door,” he admitted sheepishly. “Forget that! Marry me, right here, right now!”

Harry gaped at Draco, not really sure what to say to him. “Draco! This… we can’t just do that!” he protested.

“Why not?” Draco asked excitedly. “What more perfect setting could we get? And it’s Valentine’s Day!” He glanced over the road. “Look! The jewellery store is still open!” He grabbed Harry’s hand and started dragging him across the road.

“Draco! Wait! Fucking hell! Just wait!” Harry cried. Draco stopped abruptly in the middle of the road, and although they hadn’t seen one car since they arrived in the village, Harry sighed impatiently and led Draco onto the sidewalk. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you,” Draco said cutely, leaning in to put his head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry bit his lip and rubbed Draco’s back. Why was half of him seriously considering this? He gasped slightly when he realised that yes, he did want to marry Draco.

Harry’s musing was abruptly cut off when Draco yanked him into the jewellery store. “We need wedding rings,” Draco demanded to the lady behind the counter. “And do you know anyone who can marry us?”

The lady blinked and then smiled at them. “We get a lot like you,” she stated. “The sea air and the romantic setting gets them every time! Why do you think we keep the wedding rings in the front window?”

Harry pursed his lips as Draco flounced over to the display of wedding rings and pressing his nose against the glass. “Then perhaps you should reconsider,” Harry hissed, “and keep them where intoxicated holidaymakers cannot see them!”

“I’m not pissed!” Draco argued. “Well, not much… just tipsy, and I still want to do this! I want your most expensive ones.” He told the lady and she hummed in interest, waltzing over to unlock the display cabinet.

“White or yellow gold?” she asked.

“Platinum,” Draco insisted.

“Oh,” the lady, slightly flustered, “we only have one style of platinum rings. Plain bands about a centimetre and a half thick. There’s not a lot of call for them.”

“Two of them, please,” Draco replied, turning and grinning at Harry. “And someone who can marry us?”

Harry moved over to step in between Draco and the sales woman. “Draco, I think we should talk about this first. If you wake up in the morning and still want to do this, we’ll do it. But –”

The lady chuckled. “You are just like a young couple who came in last night about the same time. They were married by the celebrant at the Pacific Mirage –”

“Hey, that’s our resort!” Draco interrupted excitedly. “See, Harry! It’s meant to be!” He was bouncing up and down, clapping his hands in a very un-Draco like manner. Harry shot the woman a disgruntled look, highly suspecting that every local resort had a marriage celebrant. He wondered what the rate of annulment was on this island… “Pleeeeeeeease, Harry? Please, please, please, please, please marry me! I love you, I love you, I love you! It’s Valentine’s Day!”

Harry scratched the back of his neck and looked wryly at Draco, who was now trying to shove one of the rings onto his finger. “Would you like me to telephone the events coordinator at the Pacific Mirage? She’s a good friend of mine, and can have a very intimate ceremony arranged for you within the hour.”

“YES!” Draco cried, at the same time Harry snapped “NO!” and earned an injured puppy dog look from his boyfriend.

“Why won’t you marry me?” Draco asked in a tiny voice, his shoulders slumped.

“Draco, you’re drunk –” Harry started.

“Am not,” Draco said through a pout.

“And,” Harry continued, “we’ve never spoken about marriage before, and I suspect that if we go through with this, you won’t remember a thing in the morning!”

“But you do want to marry me, don’t you? I can hear it in your voice,” Draco said triumphantly, flashing the wedding ring at Harry.

Now what the hell could Harry say to that? ‘No, I don’t want to marry you’, and possibly have Draco storm off in a drunken huff? That could be a possibility, if Harry was sure Draco would wake tomorrow with no recollection of this evening’s events. But knowing Harry’s luck, Draco would remember everything, and their spat would ruin the whole trip. And there was also the little issue of Harry desperately wanting to say yes to Draco, but was it the right thing to do?

Harry studied Draco closely for a few moments. His cheeks were flushed, and he was still sporting that goofy un-Malfoy-like grin. His eyes were also a little bloodshot, and the faint smell of booze permeating from the blond was the only real indicator as to his state. 

Then there was always Draco’s track record after a long night of drinking. When Draco drank, it was usually only the same beverage – red wine – not Merlin only knows how many bottles of pink champagne, three or four tiny bottles of spirits from their mini bar, and an also unknown quantity of Harry could only hope was a local beer. When Draco stuck to red wine, he generally kept his composure, and although he suffered hangovers the next day, he always remembered everything (much to Harry’s irritation, as Draco now had a rather detailed mental log of all of Harry’s own drunken antics to draw upon whenever he pleased). Also, on red wine, Draco rarely got to the point of slurring and stumbling – was his present state a warning sign for Harry to run screaming out the jewellery shop, pronto? Probably.

Which is why Harry cringed inwardly when he found himself agreeing to Draco’s marriage proposal, quickly followed by Draco leaping ecstatically into his arms and sending them both tumbling in a messy heap onto the plush carpeted floor.

Ten minutes later, the jewellery store assistant had them bundled into a taxi, complete with a tiny velvet box containing their matching weddings bands, bound for the Pacific Mirage, with Draco chatting away happily about becoming ‘Mrs Harry Potter’.

* * * * *

Harry quickly signed his name on the required paperwork, and then turned to scan the foyer of the resort for his intended. He spotted Draco at the bar, downing a fluorescent pink cocktail. “DRACO!” Harry snapped, stalking over to where Draco was gesticulating wildly to the barman.

“… married on the beach in ‘alf an hour!” Harry caught Draco spouting.

“Draco!” Harry repeated, and Draco spun around.

“Oi, ‘arry!” Draco slurred with a grin. “Look! Trev ‘ere says this drink is called a Big Pink Cock! Jus’ like yours, babe!”

Harry blushed and glanced at ‘Trev’ the bartender. How on earth had Draco managed to get on a first name basis with the bartender and order a drink in only a few short moments? Especially when he was having trouble stringing a decent sentence together.

“That wouldn’t happen to be non-alcoholic, would it?” Harry asked and Trev snorted with laughter.

“It’s our most potent, mate,” Trev answered and Harry realised he was Australian.

“You didn’t notice he’d already had enough?” Harry sneered.

“Hey, mate, do I look like a breathalyser? I’m here to sell the booze, he’s here to buy it. Who am I to argue?” Trev said.

Draco slung his arm over Harry’s shoulder and leaned into heavily. “We’re gettin’ married,” he told Trev smugly, and then belched loudly.

“Shall I tell my manager to book you in at the Court House for an annulment in the morning, then?” Trev said, wiping a glass with a small towel.

“Pfft,” Draco scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “We won’t be needin’ any ‘nulment!” Trev cocked an eyebrow at Harry and smirked. “Can I get ‘nother Big Cock to go?”

“I think you already got one, mate,” Trev said, tossing a glance pointedly at Harry.

“I’ll show you a big cock!” Harry said with bravado.

“Please do,” Trev purred. “If blondie here is right, you’ve got a pretty decent package.” 

Both Harry and Draco gasped. “Dun’ call me blondie!” Draco protested as Harry grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the bar.

“We’re going back to our cabin,” Harry said firmly.

“No, we’re gettin’ married!” Draco cried. “Hey! ‘snot fair! You promised!” He managed to pull from Harry’s grasp. Harry shot Draco a furious look before stalking over to the reception desk where, Christine, the Event’s Coordinator, was waiting for them.

“You said you could arrange to have our wedding videoed?” Harry asked.

“Of course,” Christine said with a smile, which looked more like she was trying to stifle laughing at something over Harry’s shoulder. Harry looked behind him and found Draco sneaking back towards the bar. Harry smacked his lips, reached out and snatched Draco’s hand and pulled him next to him, holding tightly.

Draco whimpered. “Ow, fuck! You’re hurtin’ me!” he whined.

“Will you be doing the videoing yourself?” Harry asked, ignoring Draco’s whinging.

“No, my assistant, Ben, will do it,” Christine explained, slightly confused.

“Can you get him to come here and film a little pre-wedding footage?” Harry requested, and she nodded, disappearing into her office.

Draco squirmed next to Harry, trying to break free, so Harry grasped his face into between his hands and kissed him deeply and passionately to still him. He could taste the strong liquor on Draco’s tongue and had to admit it was intoxicating. Draco tasted delicious.

Draco melted into Harry and they were pressed against the reception desk. Harry wasn’t sure how long they kissed for, but they only broke apart to a polite throat clearing, and turned to find Christine standing there with a young lad about Harry and Draco’s own age, filming them with a top of the range video camera.

“Draco, tell Ben what we’re doing tonight,” Harry prompted, and Draco puffed himself up proudly.

“We’re gettin’ married!” Draco told them camera, flashing a cheeky grin.  

“And whose idea was it?” Harry asked.

“Hey! It was my idea! Don’t you go pinchin’ my thoughts! If anyone asks, I proposed to you and it was very romantic. Can I have another Big Pink Cock before we go, pleeeeease?” 

“One more thing,” Harry stated, crooking his finger at Ben to come closer. “Will you regret this in the morning, baby?” he asked Draco.

“Course not!” Draco scoffed, affronted. “We’re gettin’ married, and then I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be walkin’ for a week! Did ya’ hear that Weasel?” He went right up close to the camera and smirked into the lens. “I’m gonna fuck The Boy Who Lived after I marry him and the only Big Pink Cock in sight will be mine!”

“Thank you,” Harry said smugly, smirking at Christine. “We’re ready to go now.”

“Your limo is waiting out the front to take you back to your private beach,” Christine stated. “We will meet you there.”

* * * * *

When they arrived back at ‘their’ beach near their cabin, it was obvious they were going to be paying dearly for Draco’s spontaneous insistence of matrimony. Christine had arranged for a beautiful archway to be set up and covered in dozens of fresh red rose buds. There was a small white carpet rolled out onto the sand with candles trailing up each side, and a middle-aged man standing just beyond the archway grinning at them.  

As Draco stepped out of the limo (well, fell out would be a more accurate description, and the result of him downing almost another full bottle of champagne on their way), Christine thrust a bouquet of red roses into his hands and Draco turned and beamed at Harry. “Ha! I’m the bride!” he stated triumphantly, smacking Harry in the arm with the bouquet, sending rose petals showering everywhere.

Ben had travelled with them and was enthusiastically filming just about everything. Harry suspected he had even gotten a close up when Draco had shoved his hand down the front of Harry’s pants in the limo.

“That’s nice, darling,” Harry stated, wishing slightly that Draco would pass out and shut up. He had not stopped talking the whole way and Harry’s ears were ringing. He certainly didn’t expect Draco to slam him up against the side of the limousine and kiss him roughly, rutting against him suggestively.   

“I love ya’ so much, Harry,” Draco stated passionately. “And I know I’m prolly a lil bit pissed, but I won’t ever regret marryin’ you, k? I love ya’ too much for that.” He grinned and then skipped over to where Christine was standing at the end of the white carpet.  

“Last chance to save yourself,” Ben chuckled. “He’s a real piece of work.”

Harry rubbed vigorously at his face. “He’s nothing like this when he’s sober.”

“They never are, man,” Ben said knowingly, patting Harry on the back. “But, I mean, he seems like a decent sort. Seems to think the sun shines out of your arse. What more could you possibly ask for? Wish I could find someone who thought that of me.”

Harry gazed over at Draco thoughtfully. The blond was chatting animatedly with Christine and primping himself at the same time. The occasional little glance and smile towards Harry melted Harry’s heart. Ben was right – what more could Harry ask for? He and Draco were disgustingly in love, and although he never actually pictured himself getting married in this manner, what did it matter? Draco’s inhibitions were stripped from him when he drank, meaning everything he was saying was completely honest and from his heart, even though his manner of delivering such sentiments may be common and crass, if not slightly childish. Bugger it. They were going to get married, and they were going to do it right away.

“Thanks,” Harry said to Ben. “You helped me realise just what I really knew all along.”

Ben shrugged. “I’ve filmed heaps of weddings just like this that are over within days,” he told Harry. “You two are just different. I don’t know how I know, but –“ He was cut off by Draco tripping over the edge of the white carpet and falling flat on his face.

Harry scrambled over to the heap that was Draco, who was laughing hysterically. When he pulled Draco back upright, he realised Draco had blood pouring from his nose and he winced at the sight.

“Ow,” Draco laughed. “I smashed my face. It sorta hurt,” he stated. Harry yanked some tissue from his pocket and held them to Draco’s nose, urging him to lean forward.

“You know, they say the marriages that are a disaster during planning are always the most successful,” Christine chuckled, handing Harry more tissues.

“What do they say about marriages that are proposed, planned, and executed all within a few hours?” Harry asked sarcastically.

“Probably something along the lines of ‘what the fuck?’” Ben snorted.

“Oh, blood,” Draco giggled. “Thought it hurt.” He looked up seriously at Harry. “We’re still gettin’ married.”

Harry smirked in amusement. “Yes, love.”

“It wasn’ even my fault! The carpet jumped up and grabbed my ankle and BAM! I just fell!” Draco explained, gesticulating his actions to Harry. Harry nodded to placate his excitable fiancé as he pulled the tissue from Draco’s nose. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped.

“Well, have you stopped stalling? Are we going to get married now?” Harry teased.

“Hey, ‘m not stallin’! This was my idea!” Draco cried, trying to pull himself back up. “I’m the bride! It’s tradition for me to be late…” he stopped talking and frowned. Harry saw a flicker of Draco’s sensible side in his silvery eyes. “Are we doing the right thing?” he asked.

Ben and Christine excused themselves discreetly and moved up towards the celebrant to wait patiently. “You tell me, baby,” Harry said with a smile.

Draco’s face broke into a wide grin and smacked Harry in the shoulder. “Pfft, course it’s the right thing! Then we can have hot weddin’ night sex right here.” He patted the soft sand next to him. 

“Well, then?” Harry helped Draco up off the floor. “Let’s have a wedding!”

* * * * *

 For a spur of the moment wedding, it turned out to be beautiful. They walked up the aisle hand-in-hand, with Draco clutching his bouquet and Harry’s hand possessively. He managed to make it up the aisle without falling on his arse again, and was smirking by the time they reached the celebrant. He giggled right through their traditional vows and rested his head lovingly on Harry’s shoulder as the celebrant rambled on slightly about it being a beautiful setting, and an honour to be in the presence of such a loving couple tying the knot.

When it came time to exchange rings, Draco dropped Harry’s in the sand, and it took everyone ten minutes to find it. They finally came to the part Harry had been waiting for, and he found himself not being able to stop grinning.

“It is my complete pleasure to hereby pronounce you, Harry James Potter and Draco Tobias Malfoy –“ the celebrant said grandly, but was cut off.

“Potter,” Draco corrected with a lopsided grin. “Draco Tobias Potter.” He grabbed Ben’s camera again for about the tenth time since the start of the ceremony. “Make sure he ‘members to write that down properly! D R A C O TO B I –“

“Baby, they understand,” Harry interrupted with a laugh.

“Potter,” Draco repeated to reiterate his point.

“Harry James Potter and Draco Tobias Potter lawfully bound in matrimony, and you may now kiss the –“ the celebrant found himself cut off once again.

“Bride!” Draco said triumphantly, launching the bouquet at Ben and throwing his arms around Harry, kissing him deeply. Before the kiss had even ended, Christine popped another bottle of champagne that had been waiting on a nearby table with a cute little wedding cake. She handed around glasses, and Draco reluctantly dislodged himself from Harry’s mouth to take his. “Mr and Mrs Potter,” he said, clinking his glass against Harry’s.

Harry laughed and took a long, relieved drink from his own glass, feeling slightly shell-shocked at what had just happened. Draco was onto his second glass before Harry was even half way through his first, and he was beginning to sway dangerously. “Harry, ‘stime to fuck now,” he slurred. Harry pried the glass from Draco’s fingers, and looked around for a place that Draco could sit before he fell.

“Soon, love,” Harry assured him.

“No, s’gotta be now!” Draco insisted. “Whoa, the ground’s all woozy.” He fumbled blindly to grab hold of something that wasn’t there and started giggling. “Harry, you have four feet!” he snorted.

“Let’s sit on the sand, baby,” Harry coaxed, trying to pull Draco down. Ben was laughing hysterically and filming every moment, while Christine and celebrant were trying to stifle their own amusement.

“Uh oh,” Draco said in warning before he fell to the ground on all fours and started throwing up bright pink liquid all over their pristine white carpet.

END FLASHBACK

Harry flicked off the video player with the remote control and smirked at the look of horror on his husband’s face. “I…” he squeaked.

“Yep, you,” Harry agreed with a nod. “Well?” Draco was turning a rapid shade of green again as he held a cold, wet cloth to his aching head. He slumped over and whimpered.

“You regret it,” Harry stated rather than questioned.

“I don’t remember it! How can I regret something I don’t remember?” Draco exploded and immediately winced in pain. He glanced down at the wedding band on his finger and swallowed thickly. “Um, I take it from the state of my arse that you were the one with the Big Pink Cock last night?”

“Not quite,” Harry said with a small laugh. “You sobered up slightly after the fountain of vomit stopped – we owe them for that carpet, by the way – and you demanded we have sex. Once they left, you basically forced me back on the sand, ripped our clothes off and, well, impaled yourself on my dick while holding your hand over my mouth to stop my protests.”

“Oh,” Draco said in a tiny voice. “Is that why I was half naked when I woke up?” He pressed the heel of his hand to his head in a hope to stop the pounding.

“No. After we had sex, you passed out cold and I had to carry you back to our cabin. I put you to bed, but sometime during the night, you got up and I found you unconscious on the floor of the sitting area when I woke up. It wasn’t long after that you came to. I suspect you got up to look for the toilet or something. I found your pyjama pants in a heap in the middle of the bathroom floor,” Harry explained. “Merlin only knows why you stripped them off.”

Draco’s bleary eyes travelled around the room, taking in the discarded Valentine’s balloons and flowers. His gaze fell on the wedding bouquet lying on the table next to the leftover wedding cake. Harry must’ve put it there when Draco blacked out again that morning from shock.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked hesitantly, taking Draco’s hand and giving it a squeeze. Draco glanced down at the identical ring on Harry’s finger.

“Married,” Draco answered. “I’m feeling married… I can’t believe I don’t remember any of it…” 

“Why would that be? I thought Malfoys don’t get pissed?” Harry joked, fetching Draco a glass of water from their bedside table.

“Evidently, Potters do,” Draco replied with a tiny smirk.

“Touché,” Harry chuckled.

“I have no idea what made me insist I take your name,” Draco said, shaking his head slowly. “That’s not something I ever wanted to admit to you…”

Harry sat back down, handing Draco the water. “You mean, it is something you wanted? It wasn’t just the booze talking?”

“No, I’ve always harboured a fantasy of us getting married one day, and me taking your name,” Draco admitted sheepishly. “I just never planned to tell you.”

“Was it a secret ambition of yours also to be my bride?” Harry asked, giving Draco a light poke in the thigh.

“Absolutely not! And I am completely blaming the local beer from my gross misjudgement! There is no bride in this marriage, Potter,” Draco scoffed. “My dick is firmly and prominently the most important factor in our relationship.”

“Firmly and prominently, hey, Potter?” Harry purred teasingly and earned a wide smirk. He slid a hand up Draco’s thigh and traced patterns over what was certainly a firm and prominent bulge in Draco’s boxers.

Draco sucked in a sharp breath, and then sighed, his eyes slipping closed when Harry eased his hand inside Draco’s underwear and caressed his erection. “How about our first proper fuck as a married couple?” Harry whispered into Draco’s ear, his breath tickling the lobe.

“Ok,” Draco breathed. “But… hmmm… I’m topping. My arse needs a rest. Next time I get pissed and want to play a rabid dominatrix, please halt the proceedings rapidly. I like my hole pleasantly pain-free, thank you very much.”

Harry stopped his ministrations and sat back. “Draco, are you really ok with this? I was so worried you wouldn’t remember in the morning. Are you sure you don’t regret it?”

Draco slipped his arms around Harry’s waist and gave him a loving squeeze. “Of course I don’t regret it, sweetheart. I regret that I don’t remember it, but I don’t regret doing it. How could I?”

“Well, we’ve never discussed getting married before…” Harry sighed. “Which is why I was so shocked when you just blurted it out to be in the street.”

“That doesn’t mean I never wanted it to happen,” Draco told him. “I love that it’s happened. I just wish I could remember it. From the looks of things, it was rather a disaster, and all my own doing.”

Harry laughed. “It wasn’t a disaster, it was just… unique.”

“So unique I have no clue what happened,” Draco snorted.

“Well, we’ll do it again,” Harry stated simply with a shrug.

“What do you mean?” Draco asked, shifting so they crawl up the bed and lie down in each others arms.

“We’ll have another wedding,” Harry said with a grin. “We’ll keep you away from all things alcoholic, and we’ll do it again! Whether it’s here or back home, it’s up to you.”

Draco was silently thoughtful for a few moments before he smiled. “I’d like that,” he admitted. “And I’m never drinking again.”

“If you say so,” Harry laughed. “Now, would you do your duties as my husband and fuck me already?”

Draco growled, pouncing on top of Harry and giving him a lingering kiss. “You only had to ask. But we need to take it easy, I’m delicate and fragile, you know?”

“Yes, the very picture of a blushing bride,” Harry scoffed.  

“That will be the first and last bride joke, Potter, otherwise you will be the one with the sore arse,” Draco warned, pulling off his boxers and watching as Harry did the same. 

“Sore arse and a Big Pink Cock,” Harry stated, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm, sounds like a match made in Heaven!”

Draco slipped in between the silky sheets, holding the side open for Harry to join him. “Just like us,” he said softly, melting against Harry’s and slipping his tongue into Harry’s mouth.

Draco ran his hand over Harry’s stomach, and then his chest, revelling in the feeling of Harry’s soft skin under his fingers. Harry. His husband. Draco shivered lightly at the thought and pressed one of Harry’s nipples with the pad of his finger.  

Harry spread his legs apart, exposing his entrance to Draco’s fingers. Draco pushed the sheets down and moved down the bed. Harry watched him intently, his green eyes shining, and small, soft panting breaths passing through his open lips. Draco settled himself in between Harry’s legs, easing them further apart.

Harry whimpered when he felt Draco’s breath tickling his hole, right before a wet, warm tongue flicked out over the delicious pucker. Draco ran his tongue tantalizingly up the length of Harry’s arse, saliva spreading over Harry’s entrance and wetting it for Draco’s ministrations. Draco pressed his lips around Harry’s anus and teased his tongue across the tight band of muscle before he slipped his tongue inside. Harry groaned and feathered his fingers in Draco’s soft hair, urging his actions.

Draco obliged, sucking and licking Harry’s amazing arse hungrily. Harry was wriggling against the sheets underneath him, breathing heavily, and making choked keening noises. Draco nuzzled the crack of Harry’s arse, inhaling the musky aroma. He hummed indulgently, swiping his tongue one last time into Harry’s hole, revelling in the unique taste.

Draco crawled back up over Harry to kiss him sensually. Harry pushed up against him, creating a delicious friction on his hard cock against Draco’s abdomen. Draco broke this kiss and smiled serenely down at his new husband, and Harry smiled back, his gorgeous face flushed and sweaty from exertion.

Draco coaxed Harry’s legs further apart, and slid his fingers into Harry’s moist arse, finding the pulsing hole. He moved back in between Harry’s legs and slipped the tip of his cock between the cheeks, guiding himself to his prize. Harry arched his back, giving Draco better access, and Draco pushed his dick slowly and deeply into Harry’s arse.

“Oh, I love being inside you,” Draco murmured, reached under Harry and massaging the cheek of his bum. He started rocking rhythmically into Harry, watching his husband writhe beneath him, urging his movements on with his lustful green eyes.

Thinking back to the first time they made love, Draco smiled down at Harry. It had been awkward, clumsy, and extremely painful for Draco, who had bottomed. Very much like their first wedding. They were now well-versed in each other’s sexual pleasures, expertly able to lose themselves in each other, no matter how or where they made love. As Draco wrapped his hand around Harry’s throbbing dick, he realised he was excited at the anticipation of becoming an expert in his marriage to Harry, no matter how shaky the start of it had been.

Harry was thrashing beneath Draco, signalling that he was nearing completion. Draco pumped Harry’s erection in his hand, concentrating on Harry’s feelings before his own. Harry was choking out his declarations of love to his new husband, and screamed Draco’s name as he exploded, shooting streams of come onto Draco’s hand and leg. He flopped back onto the bed, gasping for breath as Draco grunted, pounding into Harry erratically. He swore harshly, gripping painfully onto Harry’s legs as his orgasm coursed through him, and he burst deep inside Harry’s warm passage.

Draco rode out the final shuddered wracking his body before he sighed, slipping out of Harry and lying down on top of him. Harry dropped some tiny kisses to Draco’s temple, and held him close. “I love you, Draco,” Harry murmured, entwining his fingers with Draco’s. 

Draco felt Harry’s wedding ring slide against his finger and he smiled. “I love you,” he whispered back. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Oh well,” Harry breathed before dozing off into a deep sleep. Draco listened to Harry’s contented, rhythmic breathing for a few minutes, before snuggling close to his husband and allowing sleep to claim him also.

- fin -