for pumbaa
Harry has no fucking idea how he got dragged into this.
Well all right, yes he does. It had involved a lot more alcohol than he probably should have had, and Hugo's big warm hands on him, which is the right way to get Harry to do just about anything, but nevermind that.
He hasn't worn his holster in ages but it fits just like he remembered it, pistol snug against his ribs under his suit jacket. Neither he nor Hugo exactly blend into a crowd, but the suits help them look at least mildly respectable.
Mildly.
"This had better be worth it," he grumbles out of the side of his mouth, jabbing his elbow into Hugo's side.
Well all right, yes he does. It had involved a lot more alcohol than he probably should have had, and Hugo's big warm hands on him, which is the right way to get Harry to do just about anything, but nevermind that.
He hasn't worn his holster in ages but it fits just like he remembered it, pistol snug against his ribs under his suit jacket. Neither he nor Hugo exactly blend into a crowd, but the suits help them look at least mildly respectable.
Mildly.
"This had better be worth it," he grumbles out of the side of his mouth, jabbing his elbow into Hugo's side.