Chapter Two: The Date(s)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not, will not, and never have belonged to me. J. K. Rowling is the one you're looking for. I just borrowed them, and I promise to put them back!

Warnings: Boy kisses. Sexual innuendo.

A/N: IMPORTANT!PLEASE READ! There is a smutty second part to this chapter. However since most of the people who favourited this did so while it had a T rating, I didn't want to suddenly increase that. So, I'm posting the second part as a lemon. If you want it look in my stories under my profile, or review or PM me letting me know and I'll send you the link. :) Mmmk?

Draco and Harry compared notes and realised their work schedules were similar. This pleased Draco far more than it ought to have done. They ended spending most of their free time together for the remainder of the week, using the boys' desire to play together again as an excuse to see one another.

Their boys loved each other, and were fast becoming great friends. Draco revelled in the knowledge that it was healthy for Scorpius to finally have playmates his own age. He loved to watch his son running around with Albus while James flew overhead. He was most excited about Scorpius' starter broom, which was wrapped and awaiting Christmas morning.

And Harry. Harry was always there; viridian eyes smoldering, black hair wild, dressed in muggle clothes with those delicious arms and an arse you could bounce a knut off of.

Draco was rather breathless from the whirlwind romance he seemed to be caught up in. No, he and Harry had not moved beyond significant looks, subtle (or in Harry's case, not-so-subtle) flirtations, and light touches on the arm, the shoulder, the brushing of hands and the light sweeping away of hair from the eyes. Nevertheless, there was something raw between them; something primal that boiled and simmered just below the surface, and Draco found himself anticipating Friday night with an exquisite degree of impatience.

Friday dawned bright and clear, and the day seemed to drag. Every patient he had to see was tiring; every healer he interacted with tried his patience. He was by turns elated and genial, and grumpy and moody. The staff quickly realized it was simply best to stay out of his way and let him simmer in his own juices.

Finally, finally his shift was done, and he floo'ed home, anxious for the evening. He'd seen Harry every day since Monday; once their respective shifts were done Harry had brought his boys over to play with Scorpius until bedtime. However, this was different. This was the two of them, alone, childless, with nothing to hamper the desire that rolled and boiled between them like a potion left to simmer too long.

Draco took his time in the shower, allowing himself a leisurely wank to his new favourite fantasy, which involved green eyes and disorderly black hair and a very talented red mouth. Afterwards he toweled himself off, standing in front of his wardrobe, thinking deeply. He chose his attire carefully.

He wore silver robes made from a soft, velvety material; which made his eyes look especially mercurial, trimmed with white. Underneath he wore a simple white shirt and a pair of matching silver trousers, cut from the same cloth as his robes. The material was just thin enough and tight enough to accentuate his assets and show his figure to fine display. He wore grey dragonhide boots that had a sheen to them that accentuated the silvery aspect of his attire. With his white-blond hair perfectly coiffed and styled, he was a silvery-white dream.

He then went downstairs to play with Scorpius until Harry arrived.

Harry was late. As it turned out, Scorpius went to bed before Harry arrived. While Draco didn't mind getting to tuck his son in, he caught himself staring at the clock and having panicked thoughts that this whole thing had been some elaborate revenge for their childhood rivalry. But Harry arrived, looking out of breath and lovely and utterly, completely shaggable in his black robes, trimmed with green. He wore a green jumper and black trousers. He wore his black dragonhide boots to complete the outfit.

It was the first time Draco had ever seen him in wizarding attire since school, and he had to admit it suited him so well Draco's throat was going dry. His robes, like Draco's, were designed to show off his body to full advantage. His hair was windswept and disheveled, his cheeks tinged with red and his mouth red and all but panting from exertion. He swallowed, and his adam's apple bobbed deliciously. His viridian eyes practically glowed.

"I'm sorry I'm so late, Draco," he offered an apologetic smile, and Draco couldn't be angry, not in the face of all that gorgeousness. "I got held up at work." He shivered slightly.

"You don't have a cloak," Draco noted.
"Ah, I was in a hurry, and forgot it." Harry flushed, his cheeks going redder.

Draco smiled to himself. "Borrow one of mine, then," he offered. "It's too cold to be without one right now." He stepped aside, motioning Harry through the door.

He grabbed two black cloaks from the closet in the hall, and passed one to Harry, who donned it swiftly and gratefully.

Harry took Draco's arm and they apparated to a wizarding restaurant near Diagon Alley; The Midnight Rose, which was a place for sophisticated dining. It was a little too pretentious for Harry's taste, but he thought Draco might like it. He had dropped his name to get them a reservation, and he flushed at the memory. Draco was suitably impressed.

Dinner with Harry was lovely. They talked all evening about a wide variety of subjects, and enjoyed the cuisine. Their silences were companionable, and often filled with more smoldering looks.

Draco ordered Pasta Alla Norma, and Poireaux Braises on the side. Harry was confused by the French names of the various dishes and asked Draco for translations. He explained the eggplant pasta dish, and the braised leeks, and Harry simply opted to order the same thing. He left the ordering to Draco, who also ordered them a white Zinfandel to go with their meal.

He swirled the wine in his glass and tasted it, pronouncing it acceptable. Harry smiled at him, and the heat in Harry's gaze made him blush. Apparently Harry liked the way he looked when he tasted wine. Or something. He wasn't exactly sure what had attracted it; just that Harry was giving him a look that went straight to his groin. Draco had high hopes for after dinner.

"So," he cleared his throat. "You support the Kestrals?"

"I mentioned that on Monday," Harry chuckled. "Are you still so shocked?"

"I admit, it's not as ridiculous as supporting the Cannons," Draco admitted, earning a snort from Harry. "But still; the Kestrals, Harry?"

Harry laughed, a clear, ringing sound that made Draco's chest swell. "At least I didn't go all mainstream and support Puddlemere U.," he teased.

Draco resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. Malfoys did not stick their tongues out. Instead he settled for a dignified huff and a sharp look, and the comment, "I did not go all mainstream. Malfoys don't do mainstream." Harry laughed at him again.

"So," said Draco casually, but it had been bothering him all evening, "You said you got held up at work. Nothing serious, I trust?" He couldn't help noticing Harry had been favouring his left side all night.

Harry flushed. "Actually I ended up in a chase and got injured. Had to go to St. Mungo's for a bit. I was kind of wondering if we'd run into each other there." He looked sheepish. "I end up there a fair bit. I'm surprised we hadn't met there before."

Draco flushed. "I tend to treat children, rather than victims of spell damage, Harry," he said. He shrugged at Harry's raised brow. "Children don't judge. They see the mark and all they see is a funny snake tattoo."

Harry smiled.

At the end of the evening, Harry saw him home. Standing outside the Manor, he asked rather breathlessly, "Will you come in for a drink?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "I should be getting home to my boys. Luna will be wanting to go home, as well."

Draco was disappointed, but at least Harry looked somewhat regretful. He leaned in close, and Draco closed his eyes in preparation for the kiss that was coming.

Harry brushed the barest of chaste kisses to Draco's cheek… and was gone.

Just like that, with a soft touch of lips to cheek, a whispered, "Goodnight, Draco," and he disapparated.

Draco felt cheated. He comforted himself that their first kiss couldn't be too far off, but he didn't hear from Harry again. He waited for a firecall, or an owl that never came.

Draco was going crazy. After three days of torture he finally left work early, went down to the ministry, waited for Harry to finish work, cornered him, and asked him outright what was going on.

"Uhm," said Harry. "I meant to owl you. I really did. I just didn't… I didn't want to seem presumptuous."

Draco stared. "Merlin's lacy knickers, Harry," he said. "I didn't even get a good night kiss and you're worried about coming across as presumptuous?"

"Uhm," said Harry. "About that…"

"For Salazar's sake, Harry, it's not like you're some blushing virgin!"

"Well, no," Harry flushed. "Two kids, remember?"

"Exactly, and your ex-wife left you over a year ago, so it's not like you're completely inexperienced with men, either," continued Draco, who stopped when Harry turned a rather unnatural shade of red.

"I never really had the chance," he explained, flustered.

Draco stared. "You're Harry bloody Potter!"

"Well, there was no one I was interested in!" protested Harry, still bright red, and Draco's heart warmed just a little. "I wanted to take things slow," he added, giving Draco a beseeching look. "I'm nervous, okay?"

Draco smiled. "I understand, Harry. Really, I do."

"I don't want a fling." Harry said softly. "I wasn't sure how to talk about it, so I guess it's just better to say it outright. I want a relationship. Something that will last. And I want to move slowly, because I don't want to fuck it up."

Draco was still smiling. "Harry, I wouldn't let you around my son if I didn't want a relationship with you." Harry relaxed. "And I completely understand about wanting to move slowly. I do. And I'll wait. But surely a little kiss isn't –"

"It is if I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to stop," Harry blurted, then looked even more mortified at the slip. Draco felt inordinately pleased.

"Why Harry," he purred. "Am I really so irresistible?" He moved in closer, and Harry tried to back up and failed, already being against the wall. He was almost driven to distraction by the scent of Harry; spicy, musky, and so very uniquely Harry that it made his blood boil.

"Yes," Harry admitted, cheeks flaming. "You're very irresistible."

Draco smirked as Harry nervously licked his lips, his glance unconsciously going towards Draco's mouth.

Draco slowly, sensuously drew his tongue across his lips. Harry licked his lips again, unconsciously mimicking Draco. Oh yes, Harry wanted him. That was clear. But Harry wanted to hold off on the physical side of their relationship. That was fine with Draco – so long as he didn't hold off too long.

It had been a while since Draco had last taken a lover, and he could feel the need gnawing within him like a raging beast. But he wanted Harry; wanted him badly enough to wait for him.

So wait he did.

He waited while they continued to meet up on a near-daily basis with their children, and while they continued to meet Friday nights for dinner, dancing, and any number of other pursuits. After a month and a half, Harry still had yet to kiss him and Draco was beginning to worry about how slow Harry was intending to take their relationship.

Then Harry informed him that he and the kids wouldn't be coming over again for a little while. "Ginny's turn with the boys," he explained. She'd taken a good two months off for her honeymoon, because apparently, when your divorce settlement from the Saviour of the Wizarding World includes a hefty stipend in exchange for your silence on his personal matters, you can afford things like that.

Draco's worry began to turn to full-blown panic. After all, if Harry was moving this slowly after a month and a half of seeing each other nearly every day, how slow would he move once their visits became more infrequent?

After a week of not seeing each other, Harry took him back out to the Midnight Rose again. Draco enjoyed it, just as he had the first time, but Harry's whole demeanor was slightly unnerving. In a good way. It was just that if Harry didn't stop eye-fucking him across the table he might just come in his pants, right there in the restaurant.

"Stop that," he hissed at Harry.

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me."

"I'm not supposed to look at my date?" Harry's voice feigned innocence, his eyes still smoldering.

"Not… like that. Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like something you don't intend to follow through on."

"Who says I don't intend to?" Draco's pulse sped up just a little when Harry said that.

"You did."

"Did I?"

"Yes. Quite clearly."

Harry pursed his lips. "I seem to remember the conversation differently."

Draco tore his gaze away from Harry's lips and growled. "Why are you doing this?" he bit out. He was being driven to distraction and was quite sure he was going to die of sexual frustration. And it was all Harry's fault.

"Because I missed you," the brunet replied, and oh, now Draco remembered why he was putting up with this. He smiled at Harry, realising suddenly that he was falling for this man; this man whom he'd never even kissed. That a part of him had always been infatuated with Harry Potter, but now he was truly falling in love with him. The revelation frightened him less than it should have.

After dinner, Harry saw him back to his door, as he always did. He seemed different tonight; oddly twitchy. Knowing Harry there was something he wanted to say but hadn't quite worked out to say it yet. But as Draco leaned forward for his customary kiss on the cheek, Harry surprised him.

He took Draco's head gently in between his hands and kissed him soundly on the lips.

For a moment Draco was too surprised to react, then he registered that Harry was kissing him, and he reacted quite enthusiastically. Never had Draco had a first kiss like that.

There weren't just fireworks, there was a whole pyrotechnics show. Harry's lips were warm and soft and pliant and oh god, he tasted just like he smelled, and even better than Draco had imagined.

Their lips moved together gently, chastely, almost reverently, and Draco moaned from the sheer headiness of it. That moan elicited quite the reaction from Harry. He kissed Draco harder, with more force, a bruising kiss that enveloped all the passion and eye-sex they'd been having for the entire length of their relationship. It was a kiss that gave and took in equal measure, without asking. It was a kiss that promised more.

A/N: If the link works, here's the smut. : / / archiveofourown works / 1009042 / chapters / 2485015