They hadn't seen each other for years. After the war ended and all that could be said at the time was said, they had gone their separate ways. Harry had sent a letter to Draco asking to meet him at a discreet bar only three years later. He had almost forgotten all that had happened during their school years between them and felt the need to reconnect. Try again.

Draco had been surprised. He hadn't expected to receive anything from the Boy-Who-Lived, not an ex-Death Eater like him anyways. Hadn't it only been three years since he'd barely escaped the prospect of a long stint in Azkaban just for being marked from the dead terror? What could Harry possibly want with him? He would never know if he didn't go.

Draco dressed in a sleek gray button-up and black slacks, matching shoes to go with it. He looked his best, not quite so dark and evil, and he was aiming to impress. Show he wasn't the same stupid boy he was then.

Harry wore his standard navy t-shirt, dark jeans, and sneakers. He wanted casual, a setting in which he and Draco would be equals, not a threat. He sat at the bar, waiting for the gorgeous blonde, the one he had watched from afar only to fall deeper as he was away visiting places he never thought he would ever be able to: the Americas, France, Germany, Russia even. He needed to explain everything.

Draco walked into the bar and easily spotted the still messy black hair. He took a deep breath before walking over and sitting down. It was silent for a minute before he felt the need to speak.

"Why did you want to meet with me, Potter?" Draco asked, cringing inwardly at how pompous he sounded in that moment.

"I… I wanted to explain a few things… And to start over," Harry said. Now he wasn't so sure he was ready to talk.

"Start over? You must have taken too many bludgers to the head when you were a seeker at Hogwarts," Draco tried to joke.

Harry couldn't help the snort that escaped him. "I never took a bludger to the head, you dolt. I merely fell off my broom at every chance."

Draco chuckled, remembering the time the young Harry had nearly choked on the snitch when he got the idea in his head to try to stand on his broom instead of riding it proper. "Alright. I'll give you that one. So where'd you get this idea of yours?"

"I was thinking of when you offered your hand to me, to shake. I was so terrified because all I could think was of the disapproving looks I was getting from the Weasleys and how cute you were," Harry said, not catching the last bit from falling out of his mouth in time.

"I don't blame… You thought I was cute?" Draco couldn't believe his ears. He turned to Harry just in time to catch the cute man's eye before he was able to hide his embarrassment.

Harry didn't speak for a while. What had gotten in him to think he could say that? He was supposed to take this slow, not scare of the love of his life and the first chance he had. "Yeah… I've pretty much always thought you were cute. Part of the reason I followed you around sixth year, other than the suspicion, was my slight obsession of trying to get to know you."

Draco had to think this over for a bit. "You know, I couldn't help but admire you either. I remember the time you were wearing that swimsuit, the one in fourth year for the Triwizard Tournament. I was soaking in all the exposed flesh and tight cloth that you were clad in." Why did he just confess that? His face flushed brightly and he coughed.

"You were what?!" Harry's face was even brighter than before.

"And then there was that time you were in my house, when the Snatchers had caught you and your face was all distorted. I was panicking inwardly when I thought that you were going and what that would mean. That I would never get to see you fly in the air straddling a broom – Merlin, the things seeing you straddle a broom did to my hormone-laden teenage mind – or see your smile when one of your friends made you laugh. I was so relieved when you finally escaped my family's manor with your friends," Draco added.

It was Harry's turn to cough, as he had been holding his breath through Draco's monologue. "That would explain your face."

Draco bumped Harry's arm with his shoulder, not wanting to imagine what his expression had looked like. "Don't tease me. The love of my life was in serious danger!"

They both froze at that confession. "I-I mean that the boy who I was crushing on-"

"You're the love of my life as well," Harry whispered.

Draco let that sink in. Then the only grin he'd had since his fifth year at Hogwarts breached his face. He watched Harry avoid his eye before he made a split-second decision. It was with that that he grabbed the man's chin, turned his face, and kissed those delicious lips he so craved.

Harry was in such shock he almost missed his chance to kiss back. But miss it he did not. A clearing of a throat from down the bar was the only thing that could possibly stop the couple. They separated, catching their breath as it had been stolen in the briefest of moments.

"I've an idea," Draco offered.

"And what would that be?" Harry couldn't keep still for much longer.

"Why don't we try something that we never thought possible?" Draco asked, hoping the man before him would agree. Harry waited ever so patiently (not) for him to continue. "Let's go on a date."

Harry's eyes widened, thinking that suggestion over. "Yes."

"Yes?" Draco's grin grew even wider at the answer.

"Yes!" And with that, the blonde kissed the raven-haired man again. They exchanged info and set a date.

A/N: Let me know what you think. Any help would be welcome! I might write a sequel, but I don't know yet. For now, this will be a oneshot.