Chapter Text
The realization that Donald had a wife was jarring to Joe. But why would it be? A man such as Donald with his endless funds and even more endless talent and respect should garner nothing less than a wife or partner of some sort. Of any sort even.
But why can’t he seem to get over it?
It’s been 2 days since the call, and Joe hasn’t returned any of Donald sorry-ass emails getting him to schedule another golf lesson. Not that Joe hates him, but he’s just embarrassed. He feels so conflicted about the idea that Donald is so much farther away than Joe had previously anticipated. Obviously there were things Joe admired about the man; a reason to look up to him, but this is something he hasn’t felt in a while.
Jealousy.
Soul-eating, all consuming, heart dropping, skin ripping, sink into the floor jealousy. Jealousy that made Joe drive his old car back to the coffee shop for some peace and quiet. Although Donald’s flyers were in Marauder’s not too long ago, he knows this isn’t a place he would be in danger of seeing Donald at.
The familiar soft lights illuminated the familiar tables with the familiar magazines strewn about on the tables. Accompanied by the crowd of familiar patrons doing work on computers, or having quiet hushed conversations amongst themselves. The familiar barista, with messier hair it seems, meets Joe back at the counter.
“What can I get you.”
“Chai of newt and um…” Joe trails off and begins to look around at the pastries they have out today. A new assortment, or was it there at all? Joe couldn’t remember, but arguably it didn’t matter at all. He stood staring for a good second or two.
“Oh my god ok. I’ll come back in a minute.”
Harry ran off to get started on the chai while Joe contemplated.
A familiar white haired man walks into the shop, was his name Draco? Joe didn’t remember, but he did remember that the last time he saw the man he was just as blonde, but much much more pregnant.
Now the man, much smaller, holds and abomination of a baby in his arms. A two headed beast if you will, and if you won’t, that's fair enough.
Draco walks up to Joe and stops beside him.
”Well, wattarya gonna get? I made everything from scratch you know? To help with my birth bills. You know, conjoined twins aren’t common for anyone, letalone a man such as myself. Complicated to birth too. You don’t even know, you know?”
Joe in fact, did not know.
“How interesting, what are their names? They’re very beautiful”
Draco held up the conglomerate of 2 babies, twins for sure, but so very different in looks.
The right head was a boy for sure. With short, brown hair, placed in the worst hairline humanly imaginable, almost like an M. His smile stretched wide above his very prominent gums, showing his tiny teeth, although when he asked, Draco said they were his adult teeth. His facial features seemed too close together on his large pudgy face. The more he looked, the more the ‘baby’ unsettled Joe. It’s lifeless eyes and its disgusting smile had something to do with that he was sure.
The left head was a girl. With long luscious blonde hair, full lips, and a beautiful smile. Equally as pudgy, yet more inviting. She had a full face of makeup on, yet Draco seemed to stand by the fact that she was born that way. Joe couldn’t argue, he had never given birth before, what did he know?
“Their names? You want to know their names Biden? Well, if you must know, the one on the right is Charlie and the left is Trisha.”
Joe stood and looked at the patchwork of a kid in front of him. Limbs flailing in an epic battle to assert dominance of the one body they both share. Their heads rolling around on their thick necks fighting for space when there was no space for either of them.
“Those are very pretty names Draco… Where did you come up with Trisha? Very beautiful name”
“See, we’re trying this new thing, Potter and I, where we don’t use our last names for the children. It’s a way of setting them up for independence. We aren’t allowing them to piggyback off of our legacy by carrying the name of Potter. Their full names are Charlie Kirk and Trisha Paytas.”
Joe stood puzzled. He had never heard of something like that in his many years of living. He couldn’t imagine Draco and Harry not allowing their kid(s?) to carry their family name. Joe didn't think there was that much weight behind it. Piggybacking off of what Joe wonders. The legacy of the coffee shop? Did they have some kind of massive fortune stored away somewhere? Joe pondered while watching the kid(s).
Draco was observing Joe as he watched the kid flailing on his hip. His wide almost dead eyes scared Draco. Something was wrong with this man. The last time he had seen Joe he was just any old retiree that lived in the surrounding areas. No big deal, Draco had lived here a very long time and was accustomed to the occasional old man or two. But there was something stirring in his eyes. A desire or emptiness of some kind was bleeding from him as his eyes stayed glued to Trisha and Charlie.
Draco smiled awkwardly at Joe.
“Well, I’m just gonna say hello to Harry and then I’ll be on the way out. Hope you um… Hope you have a good rest of your day…” Draco turned around not bothering to look back. He knew Joe was watching.
Joe blinked his eyes, focusing back on the pastries. There was a cookie. It was a a medium size cookie, one that he could probably finish with his chai pretty fast. His eyes found themselves back to Draco whispering in a hurry to Harry. Frantically moving the hand not holding his baby. Harry looked at Draco almost dismissively, a glimmer of disdain clouds his eyes for a moment when he looks at the baby, but when he meets Draco’s eyes again his eyes look more concerned. What an odd man. An odd relationship even.
Draco suddenly turns from Harry. Clutching his child closer to him as he passes by Joe before opening the door in a hurry and rushing out. He wonders what that was all about.
“Listen Joe.” Harry starts. Joe locks eyes with Harry. Brows furrowed and lips tight he continues.
“I don't care if you come in here. Don't make my husband uncomfortable in the store we own again or you'll never step foot in here so long as you live. Do you hear me?”
“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to. I’ll… I’ll be more careful.” Joe looked down back at the pastries. Back at the cookie. There was no way he could ask for it now. He paid for his chai and walked out.
The cold air whipped around him, rustling his hair and seeping into the threads of his clothes chilling his bones. He couldn’t wait to get home.
Something he never thought he’d say.