This oneshot is based off of the song "Lemon Boy" by Cavetown, which is one of my favorite songs right now. It wasn't requested by anyone so it's kind of stupid that I'm writing it because i have 74 requests and i really should be writing those instead but this is what im inspired to write right now so im sorry 

There once was a bittersweet man and they called him Lemon Boy

Harry wasn't sure what his real name was anymore. It probably started with a D, but who cared, because he was a jerk anyway.

He was sarcastic and bitter and cold. He distanced himself from everyone and played his stupid electric guitar and stared at the ceiling when they were supposed to be learning.

Harry and his friends took to calling him Lemon Boy, because he was always wearing yellow and because he was so sour.

Hermione hated yellow, because she liked blue. Blue jeans, blue headbands in her hair, blue microphone.

Ron hated yellow, because he liked orange. Orange hair, orange drumsticks, orange t-shirts with bands Harry didn't care about, which Ron claimed had the "greatest music in the world".

Neville hated yellow, because he liked green. Green eyes, green headphones, green bass guitar that his dad had paid a fortune for and the boy wasn't grateful enough for.

Dean hated yellow, because he liked purple. Purple lipstick, purple nail polish, purple keyboard.

Harry didn't hate yellow. In fact, he wished his red guitar was yellow, because yellow was his favorite color. But he shut up about it because his friends hated yellow and he loved his friends.

He was growing in my garden and I pulled him out by his hair, like a weed

"What are you doing here?" Hermione spat at the boy.

Lemon Boy grinned easily, one leg dangling off of the giant speaker he was sitting on. "Isn't it obvious? I want to join your band."

"Electric guitars have no place in our band," Ron replied sharply.

"You have no place in our band," Neville corrected, eyes narrowed at the boy and his stupid yellow electric guitar.

"I can play a different instrument. I'm pretty good at drums-" Lemon Boy started to offer with a sarcastic grin, but Harry cut him off. 

"It's not because of the instrument. It's because of you."

Lemon Boy hopped off of the speaker, smile fading as he approached Harry. "I figured you of all people would be nice to me. I haven't done anything to you."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked sharply. "'Me of all people'. I'm the same as my friends."

Lemon Boy's grin was back, just as harsh and sarcastic and all-insufferably-knowing as ever. "Sure you are, sugar."

And then he was gone.

But like weeds do, he only came back and grew again

He was back.

But he wasn't in Harry's garage with them like he had been last time. Now he was sitting on Harry's bright pink fence, with his yellow crop top and his white ripped jeans and his yellow Converse, with his stupid fucking electric guitar leaning against the fence with him.

God, Harry hated that fucking pink fence. He didn't know why his aunt had painted it that horrific color.

Harry wasn't sure why he was there. He didn't appear to be trying to join their band like he was yesterday. Instead, he was just watching them with a slight smile.

So I figured this time I might as well let him be

Harry didn't mention it to his friends, and instead started playing.

The slow rhythm was almost irritating. Harry had never particularly liked slow, sad-sounding songs, but that was what his friends liked to play, so Harry just slowly strummed his guitar and nodded when Hermione cheered that that was awesome!

Lemon Boy and me started to get along together

Yet again, Lemon Boy was sitting on the fence. His guitar wasn't against the fence this time, though. Instead, it was resting in his arms as he mimicked the chords Harry was playing without actually touching the strings, as though he was trying to teach himself.

After a bit, Harry's friends packed up and left, and Harry walked across the street.

"Why were you watching me?"

One sarcastic eyebrow rose. "'Cause you're cute."

Harry sighed, and turned away. This was a waste of his time.

"I never understood slow songs."

Harry stopped walking.

"They're so boring."

Harry turned to face the boy.

"I was trying to find the appeal of strumming a guitar so slowly. I found no joy in it."

Lemon Boy hopped down from the fence, just a little too close to Harry.

"I don't think you do, either, sugar."

I helped him plant his seeds

He was trying to play the drums.

He was failing spectacularly.

Harry sighed. "You're holding the drumsticks wrong."

"Orange is a horrible color," Lemon Boy sighed as he dropped the sticks. "I can't do this."

"Yes you can." Harry picked them back up again. "We agreed. You can practice in here as long as you're not using your electric guitar. You chose the drums, it's not my fault Ron bought orange ones."

Lemon Boy sighed heavily, but nodded. Harry adjusted his grip on the drumsticks and tapped the drums to show him the beat.

"Got it?"

Lemon Boy tilted his head. "It's so slow."

"That's what we play," Harry replied. "So either play it or leave."

And we'd mow the lawn in bad weather

Lemon Boy just nodded, seeming put out. Harry started strumming his guitar and the blonde boy started softly playing the beat of the song.

It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him

"That was good!" Harry cheered.

"It was fuckin' boring," Lemon Boy sighed. "One day I'm gonna have my own band."

"Are you gonna call it Lemonade?" Harry asked, snickering at his own pun of his nickname for the boy.

Lemon Boy lit up, grinning at Harry. "So you do have a sense of humor, sugar. It's there somewhere."

So I got myself a citrus friend

"Why do you call me sugar?"

"Because you're so damn sweet," Lemon Boy teased sarcastically. Harry made a face.

"I'm not that sweet."

Lemon Boy studied him.

"Or maybe you just don't want to be."

But soon his bittersweet started to rub off on me

"Fuck!" Harry shouted as he missed a note.

His band members stared at him, shocked.

You'd think smelling like lemon zest would be pretty neat

"Did you just cuss?" Neville said slowly.

I found out my friends are more of the savory type

"Yeah, sorry. Slipped out."

"You never cuss," Hermione added, just as slow. "We never cuss."

Before Harry could respond to that, there was a knock.

He turned to face the blonde boy standing by the garage opening, knuckles resting against the wood of the wall as he knocked once more with a teasing grin on his face.

"Hey!" Harry called. "What's up?"

"Well I was coming over to practice, but I didn't expect your friends to be here," Lemon Boy replied with an easy smirk.

"Yeah, sorry I didn't tell you. We practice longer on Saturdays. More time to, ya know?"

And they weren't too keen on compromising with a nice lemon pie

"What is he doing here?" Hermione asked, eyes trained on the boy whose grin was rapidly fading.

"We've been practicing every so often. He's trying to learn drums," Harry replied, trying to smile.

"You've been letting him play my drums?" Ron shouted, jumping up from his drum set.

"Um, yeah, I figured you wouldn't mind-"

"Of course he would mind, you're letting stupid Lemon Boy play? What about the band?" Neville shouted.

So Lemon Boy and me, we just gotta get along together

"What's wrong with letting someone play the fucking drums?" Harry snapped.

Neville made a small gasp of shock. Dean shifted uncomfortably, staying silent and staring pleadingly at Harry.

"What is happening to you?" Hermione cried. "Yesterday you asked if we could play a faster song, last week you mentioned changing the name of our band, and now you're replacing us?"

"I'm not replacing you, I'm adding to my friend group! And all of our songs are slow, and no one's gonna take us seriously with a band name like The Sugarpuffs!"

"So he's influencing you then," Neville spat, staring down the blonde, who looked like he was really wishing he hadn't stopped by.

I'll help him plant his seeds

"No, Neville, maybe I'm just realizing that not everything has to be the same all the time, not everything has to be pristine and perfect and pure!"

Ron was shaking his head. "I'm kicking you out of the band, Harry."

"And I'm kicking you out of my garage," Harry replied coldly. "Get out."

They looked confused and angry, and they gathered their things and Dean and Ron dragged Ron's drum set away while Hermione and Neville carried the other things.

And we'll mow the lawn in bad weather

Harry sighed, dropping down with his hands shaking. He buried his face in his knees and cried.

"Hey, hey, you'll be alright," Lemon Boy whispered, wrapping Harry in his arms. "I'm here for you."

It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him

Harry leaned into Lemon Boy as he continued to cry.

It was oddly comforting, to lean into this boy he barely knew, and just let himself give up.

Maybe Lemon Boy wasn't as sour as he had seemed.

So I got myself a citrus friend

"So, you actually think we're friends?" Lemon Boy asked one day as they sat in Harry's garage.

"Yeah, I would think so. I mean, I gave up all my other friends for you, so I sure hope so."

Silence. Then a quiet "I'm sorry about that."

"It's not your fault. It would have happened eventually. They're too different from me. They've already replaced me with Seamus Finnegan."

"Isn't he gay?"

"Not super open about it, but yeah. Why?"

"I dunno. Some of your friends don't seem very welcoming of that sort of thing."

"They're not," Harry murmured. "I don't think they know."

Lemon Boy nodded slowly.

"What's your name? I keep calling you Lemon Boy, and I keep forgetting that's not your actual name."

"Draco."

"Draco." Harry allowed the word to roll around on his tongue. "That's beautiful."

"You can still call me Lemon Boy if it's easier," Draco said with a grin.

Harry lightly shoved him and smiled.

But what if I run out of fertilizer?

"How do you deal with it?" Harry whispered one day. "How do you deal with people being so mean to you and calling you names and... well, hating you?"

Draco stared out at the sunny sky. "Well, the only name people call me is Lemon Boy, and that's not the worst thing in the world. I try to ignore it, or I embrace it. The more bitter things people said about me, the more I become that person, accept that whatever others say is true."

What if the clouds run out of rain?

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"It stings," Draco whispered. "Like lemon juice in an open wound."

What if Lemon Boy won't grow?

Harry just stared at the wall.

What's the point?

Draco hadn't come by in days. He had said he wouldn't, he was going on vacation, but Harry was starting to realize how much he depended on his Lemon Boy.

Draco was his sunshine. He made him laugh and cry and he made Harry realize what it was to be human, to create your own personality rather than poorly replicate a shadow of someone else's. He made Harry a better person, and the months Harry had spent being the other boy's friend were some of the best months of his life.

So he stared.

It would be four days until Draco came back.

Maybe Harry just wouldn't move until then.

"You look bored. Want some entertainment?"

Draco hadn't even finished his sentence by the time Harry had flown from his seat and hugged the other boy tightly.

"I missed you," he whispered into the blonde's yellow sweatshirt.

Warm arms wrapped tightly around him.

"I missed you too, Harry."

What if beaches dry of sugarcane?

"I got you a present."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "It's gotta be big, because your garage door is closed. Your garage door is never closed when you're near it."

Harry just smiled and pressed the remote to open the door. Draco gasped.

"You didn't."

"I did."

Inside the garage was a beautiful yellow drum set. It had taken Harry days to find, and it was so beyond worth it when Draco turned to him with shining eyes and kissed him.

Sadly, the blonde pulled away almost immediately after, eyes wide with shock. "I'm so sorry-"

Harry pulled him in for another kiss.

Oh well

"I think we should paint the walls of your garage," Draco proposed one day, his head in Harry's lap and his stunning grey eyes trained on Harry.

"Sounds good," Harry said, only half-listening as he watched how the light glinted off of Draco's irises.

The whales start to beach themselves

They started with taking everything out of the garage. The drums, the guitar, the benches and various random things scattered about. They cleaned the whole place top to bottom, and they painted the walls a pale yellow. Draco bought a large yellow rug for the drum set to rest on. They got some yellow and white couches and chairs to put in one area, and one of Draco's friends (Presley?) brought them some nice white speakers.

It was a beautiful little area.

Tortoise shells tear away from their spines

Harry had taken to wearing yellow, but he wore it a bit differently than Draco. Where Draco wore yellow crop-tops and white skinny jeans most of the time, Harry took to yellow bomber jackets and black jeans.

The first time he had worn an outfit of that style, Draco had gasped sharply, staring at him for a little longer than was comfortable for Harry, who felt extremely awkward wearing something different, and kissed him so passionately that Harry decided he might never wear anything other than this again.

It happens all the time, it happens all the time

Dean had come around and apologized for not doing anything when Hermione and Ron and Neville had kicked Harry out of the band. He told Harry he had been kicked out too, and introduced him to the reason why.

Seamus was a nice guy, and him and Dean really seemed perfect together. He explained to Draco and Harry that he wasn't really a huge fan of being in the front part of bands, which was why he was more relieved that Hermione, Ron, and Neville had kicked him out of the band.

Dean explained that once the pair had come out about their relationship, Hermione had refused to be near them, and Ron, being the doting boyfriend he was, agreed. Neville had made the final call to kick the pair out.

Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever

"I have a gift for you."

"You don't have to, I didn't expect anything for my birthday-"

"Shut up and come with me, nerd."

Harry laughed, allowing his boyfriend to drag him to his own fucking garage.

"Here," Draco murmured, handing Harry his yellow electric guitar. "I know it's not new, but I don't have the money to buy you a new one, and honestly if you wanted one you could have bought it, I know your family has a lot of money, but I know you like yellow and I'm not gonna use the guitar anymore-"

During the whole time Draco was rambling, Harry carefully set the guitar against the wall, making sure it stayed before he turned around and tackled Draco, kissing the boy fiercely.

"Thank you," he whispered breathlessly. "I've wanted that stupid fucking guitar since the first day I saw it."

Like Snufkin and Little My, we'll get around wherever

"Hey," Presley? Pansy? said as she leaned against the wall.

"Hey, Pansy," Draco greeted. So it is Pansy. He set down his drumsticks and stood. "What do ya need?"

"Actually, I was wondering if there was something you need. I know you guys have a sort of band going, and I was wondering if I could play bass. It's totally okay if you say no-"

"Do you have a yellow one?" Harry interrupted.

Pansy blinked. "Um. No?"

"Let's go shopping. Only yellow instruments in this bitch," Harry said, standing.

Pansy positively lit up. "Does that mean I'm in the band?"

"You're in the band," Harry confirmed, glancing at Draco, who nodded.

Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever

They had gathered Draco's friend Blaise too. The boy had a yellow microphone, and the absolutely most atrocious shiny yellow/gold jacket Harry had ever seen. He fucking loved it.

He seemed to really enjoy flirting with Harry, must to Draco's fake-irritation, and it was a running joke that Harry was 'cheating' on Draco with him.

"You missed the high note on this part," Harry murmured, pointing at Pansy's music sheet.

"You didn't miss my high note last night," Blaise said, winking.

"What does that even mean?" Draco sighed, grinning at his friend.

"You'll never know, you weren't there," Harry joked, sending Blaise into a fit of laughter.

Like Snufkin and Little My, we'll get around wherever

"Harry?"

Blaise stopped laughing, and Harry turned toward Dean and Seamus.

"Uh, hi guys. Can I help you?"

"We were wondering..." Dean looked down, kicking the ground with his shoe. Seamus looked nervous and slightly uncomfortable.

"You want to join the band?" Harry guessed. Dean shrugged and nodded. "Alright. We've been looking for someone to play keyboard, we've already got a yellow one set up. And Seamus, I thought you don't like being in the front?"

"I don't." Now it was Seamus' turn to scuff his shoe on the hard concrete of the garage floor. "I'd like to manage sound sets and lights and shit for you guys. I can pay to get you guys that stuff."

"That sounds amazing," Harry replied with an easy smile. Seamus relaxed, giving Harry a warm, grateful smile.

It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him

"I think, when we're older and have the resources to start a life, I'd like to marry you," Draco murmured one day as they watched the clouds go by.

"Are you proposing to me?" Harry asked, sitting up.

"I think so. Is it working?"

"No."

Draco's smile fell immediately.

"I want to be swept off my feet. Not just an 'I guess so'. I want a real proposal, with me almost crying and you on one knee, not just a casual proposition like you saying we should redecorate the garage."

Draco rolled away and stood up, huffing and brushing off his shirt. He helped Harry up with a grin, and then dropped to one knee, pulled out- oh god, Harry's boyfriend was so fucking stupidly romantic- a yellow guitar pick.

"Harry James Potter, will you marry me?"

"Yes," Harry breathed out shakily, because even though he was expecting it, it was still more than he could have imagined.

The smile on Draco's face was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen.

"You will?"

"I will, Lemon Boy."

'Cause we're the bitterest boys in town

"So, the Sugarpuffs broke up," Dean said casually as he walked into Harry's garage. "In more ways than one."

"Ooo, spill!" Pansy said excitedly, yellow fingernails tapping against her glass.

"Apparently they kept recruiting people and firing them for stupid reasons until people stopped coming to them, and the band became too much to try and manage all of the parts and they drifted apart. Hermione and Ron got in some huge stupid fight and broke up, although I'm sure that's not permanent."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Damn."

Draco raised his drink. "To gay rock bands."

The rest of the group raised their drinks with smiles and laughter.

Yeah, we're the bitterest guys around

"Do you, Harry Potter, take Draco Malfoy as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"And do you, Draco Malfoy, take Harry Potter as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you lemon boys spouses for life," Dean finished, grinning.

Harry kissed his Lemon Boy.

And now I got myself a citrus friend

Harry was breathless as he drew out the final note of his guitar.

Silence.

Then cheers.

Loud, shouting, clapping cheers. People were standing and shouting and smiling, and it was all for them.

Pansy's yellow dress swished as she smiled at Harry and mouthed good job. He could only smile back, stunned by the positive response.

"That was the band Lemonade, giving us a sneak preview of their new album Bittersweet, coming out next Friday! They have one more song tonight, so let's give them the stage."

Pansy leaned forward into her microphone, eyes catching Harry's as she grinned and spoke. "This is our song Lemon Boy. We hope you like it."

Harry strummed the first note, and Pansy started singing.

"There once was a bittersweet man and they called him Lemon Boy."